


Four Women

by Harlee_Quinn



Category: Sons of Anarchy
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-14
Updated: 2013-12-28
Packaged: 2017-11-12 03:28:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 13
Words: 112,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/486160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Harlee_Quinn/pseuds/Harlee_Quinn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the unthinkable happens, can the women in Jax Teller's life keep him together or pull him apart? An AU-version of Kurt Sutter's canon, plus his original ending for Season 1 of SOA.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

_**Prologue** _

The slamming of a car door nearby brought Jax out of his stupor of memories and regret. Feeling the coolness of the breeze against his face, Jax wiped at his cheek with his ringed fingers, surprised to find it wet with his tears. Seeing Piney Winston lumbering towards him out of the corner of his eye, Jax squeezed his red-rimmed eyes tight and used his thumb and index finger to do away with the rest of his tears. 

"Now how did I know I'd find you here?" Piney grumbled as he stopped directly over Jax, who was sitting on the ground with his back against a headstone. 

"What? You came lookin' for me or is that just an excuse to come cruisin' for widows, old man?" Jax teased as he lit the cigarette now dangling from his lips. The tequila-sodden rumble of laughter that escaped Piney was soon followed by a coughing fit. 

"How's he doin' today?" Piney gestured toward the grave Jax was resting on. 

Taking a deep drag, Jax slowly exhaled before answering sadly. "Still dead." 

Piney nodded soberly. "You know, I hear that happens." 

In spite of himself, Jax chuckled. 

Sobering up, Piney looked down at Jax with rheumy eyes and shook his head slightly. "I still miss him too, you know. I come up here and talk to him all the time," Piney's voice was rough with unshed tears. "But Jackson, you are slowly losing yourself in a sea of booze and grief and I need you, son." 

Surprised by the emotion in the old man's voice, Jax looked up at Piney. Suddenly feeling self-conscious under the scrutiny of the intense gaze behind the old biker's weather-beaten face, Jax ran both of his hands, his battered knuckles caked with dried blood, through his mop of greasy and unwashed blond hair. 

Jax shook his head. "I'm not lost, old man. I'm right here." 

"Could've fooled me." Piney replied sardonically. "You haven't been present, especially at the table, for the past six months." 

Jax's eyes narrowed and his nostrils flared, his mouth pulled into a tight grimace. "That's not fair, old man. I've been handling my shit just fine. Don't hear anybody but you complaining." 

"I'm not complaining, Jax. I'm just worried." 

Jax laughed bitterly. "Since when have you given a shit about anything except seeing the bottom of a bottle of Patron?" 

Now it was Piney who was surprised, reacting to the bitterness and thinly-veiled self-loathing Jax was oozing through his pores the only way he could. Piney laughed, a big, booming and hearty sound that shook his ample belly. 

Pressing on the tube in his nose that provided his diseased and decaying lungs the breath of life he carried around in a cross body shoulder bag, Piney inhaled. He needed to get through to Jax and taking the bait the very angry young man was throwing at him was not the way to do it. 

"I probably deserve that, but after 40 years of living and surviving the Life, I'll be damned if I'm gonna let the still wet-behind-the-ears Prince of Charming call me out on it. You haven't earned that privilege yet, boy." Piney retorted, getting the reaction from Jax he was looking for as his blue eyes flashed angrily at him. 

Jax resented being called the Prince. Not only did most of those who called him that mean it as an insult, but the title itself insinuated that his destiny was written in stone. And after recent events, Jax wasn't so sure that this was the life he wanted, for himself or his own son. 

"Now is not the time to start questioning your place in this Club, Jax." Piney said as if reading the young biker's mind. "You may not want to hear it, especially now, but your place is at the head of that table. Clay has gone unchecked for far too long and _I_ know _you_ know exactly what I mean. I need you with your head in the game, so stop questioning your place and start questioning the direction SAMCRO is heading in. And I'm gonna get you started." The old man said as he pulled a manila envelope from the back waistband of his jeans and held it out towards Jax. "You can only change the course of the future that will ultimately destroy this Club by knowing its past." 

Jax looked at the envelope in Piney's outstretched hand without taking it. A date was written on it in black marker, "Original 3/15/93". Aside from the year itself, the date had no significance for Jax whatsoever. 

Jax took another drag from his cigarette. "What is it?" 

The grizzled biker looked like he was about ready to whack Jax upside the head with the large, somewhat heavy-looking envelope. "You never really knew your old man. Not like I did. He was my brother even before we were First 9. I can only tell you stories about JT, but these pages hold the truth of who your father really was, what his vision for the Club really was, and it's not what you might think. The _wrong man_ has been mentoring you all these years, Jax. You are at a crossroads. Everybody can see that. Fatherhood makes you question your own existence. _Now_ is the perfect time for you to learn the true meaning of brotherhood as seen through JT's eyes. Only then will you be able to save SAMCRO." 

Slowly reaching out, his eyes still locked on Piney's, Jax took the envelope from the other man's slightly shaky hand. 

"JT never wanted this life for you," Piney continued. Sadly, he couldn't say the same about himself and Opie. After all, SAMCRO was all Piney had by way of an inheritance for his son. "But if he could see where the Sons of Anarchy are headed, he'd want you to have this."

Flipping the envelope over, Jax could see that the seal had been broken. 

"I had to read it again, just to remind myself not to give up when that's all I wanna do." Piney explained sadly. 

Taking one last drag from his cigarette, Jax flicked the spent butt far enough to hit Piney's truck parked down the hill on the road inside the cemetery. Using his free hand, Jax pushed himself upright, trying in vain to dust off the dirt and grass stains on his light wash jeans. 

"You look like shit." Piney laughed. "When was the last time you showered? And dousing yourself in Jack Daniels don't count neither." 

"Shut up, old man!" Jax lightly nudged his best friend's father on the shoulder as Piney headed back down the hill, his gravelly laughter ringing in Jax's ears. 

Before following Piney down to his bike, Jax turned towards the headstone he had been leaning on and tapped it a couple of times before bumping it with his fist. 

"Miss you, bro." Jax said probably for the millionth time in the last six months to the grave marked,

Harry "Opie" Winston  
Beloved Husband, Father and Brother  
1978-2008


	2. Let Your Burden Be Mine As Well

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy.
> 
> A/N: As most hardcore SOA fans know, Opie Winston was supposed to have died at the hand of the Club at end of Season 1. However, at the last minute, Kurt Sutter had a stroke of brilliance and decided to keep the character alive. As a result, Opie Winston has been become the most tragic character in the series and a true friend and brother to Jax Teller for the last four seasons. 
> 
> This story is the "what could have happened" had Sutter continued with his original plot and had kept the character of Donna Winston alive instead, with a healthy dose of my personal spin on the canon.
> 
> The next several chapters are a series of flashback events over a six-month period told from the perspective of Jax Teller and his women, with the story eventually returning to the present day.
> 
> If you read, please review.
> 
> Enjoy!

Flinging open the bathroom door, Jax walked into his dorm wearing nothing but a small white towel wrapped around his waist as he used another one to dry his hair. From what he could recall, Piney was right and it had been a few days since his last dance with proper hygiene. He had reeked to high heaven of booze, weed, cigarettes and blood.

Sitting for a moment on the edge of his bed, Jax thought about the number of bars he had frequented over the last few days in Lodi and Modesto. When he hadn't been completely shit-faced, he was starting fights, hoping for someone to take a swing at him so that he could unleash his aggression on some hapless stranger. The last of his punching bags had been some fuckin' idiot who was slapping his girlfriend around in the parking lot of the Buffalo Bar in Lodi. Jax cracked the knuckles of his hands in memory, hissing in pain as he remembered too late that he had split most of them open on the 6'4, 250-pound redneck's face.

_He went down like a tree. Made me work for it, too. Just like Ope would have._

Feeling an ache in his chest at the memory of his brother from another mother, Jax got up and threw on a pair of boxers. The jeans he finally ended up jumping into, while not completely clean, were in better condition than the ones currently residing on the floor of his bathroom. Grabbing a much-used first-aid kit sitting on his dresser next to some pictures of his old girlfriend taped to the mirror, Jax clumsily managed to put on some anti-bacterial cream and a couple of band aids to cover the worst of the bruises. As Jax worked on his banged up hands, his eyes kept lighting on the manila envelope that sat in the middle of his unmade bed.

When Piney had given him the envelope it had nearly burned a hole in his hand, he so badly wanted to know what was inside. Knowing that the information contained within were in his father's own words, Jax was feeling a mix of joy and apprehension.

Jax had idolized his father growing up. To his younger self, John "JT" Teller had seemed bigger than life and Jax aspired to be just like his old man. Along with his movie star good looks, JT had been a man of conviction, who led the Club with a strong hand, but who was looked up to and admired by his brothers and—to his mother's never-ending distress—every woman that ever crossed his path. Although not educated beyond the third year of high school, JT was often referred to as the thinking man's biker. He was known as being well-read and even though he would never hesitate to jump into a situation in defense of his brothers, he was always the first to offer resolution without drawing blood.

But when Jax's younger brother Tommy died, the strong man that Jax had known ceased to exist. JT became distant and withdrawn, quiet and guilt-ridden. Spending months at a time before, during and after the death of his son in Ireland, when JT had finally returned to what was left of his family, Jax barely recognized the shell of a man he had become. His father would never get the chance to recover from his heartbreak as, less than a year after his return to Charming, JT met his death on the SR-582 after being hit by a semi and dragged 178 yards. He died in the hospital two days later having never regained consciousness.

As a memorial to his father, he and Opie had rebuilt JT's panhead, which was now proudly displayed in the Clubhouse alcove. Jax had thought that in addition to the bike, a few old Harley manuals and a bunch of pictures of JT's days in Vietnam and during the formation of the Club were all that was left of his father. So for Piney to suddenly pass on to him his own father's words, his legacy in writing, was nothing short of miraculous to Jax. It was as if his father would be speaking to him from beyond the grave.

At 30 years old, as a Man of Mayhem and VP of the mother charter, Jax could honestly say that he was scared of nothing and no man, but seeing that thick envelope sitting on his bed actually made him tremble. Reading about his father would no doubt force him to re-examine his own life and the path that he had chosen for himself within the Club. The thought of possibly learning that thus far he had fallen short of the man his father had been before Tommy died was a little intimidating.

 _After reading what he wrote, will I find out that Dad would be disappointed in the choices I've had made or the man I've become_?

There was only one way to find out.

Tossing the first-aid kit back onto the dresser, Jax strode to the bed and flopped on it, settling his back up against the headboard and reached for the envelope. Grabbing his pack of cigarettes from the night table, he lit one, and exhaling a trail of blue smoke, reached into the envelope to pull out what was a neatly typed 500-plus page manuscript.

Jax read aloud the title on the cover. "The Life and Death of Sam Crow. How the Sons of Anarchy Lost Their Way, By John Thomas Teller." Flipping over to the next page, Jax continued. "For my sons Thomas, who is already at peace. And Jackson, may he never know this life of chaos."

As the sun filtered in through the blinds, falling across the bed, Jackson Teller slowly turned the pages and read about the dream of his father and his best friend Piney Winston to create a Club, a true brotherhood with no boundaries, and as he read, his mind drifted as he thought about the trials and tribulations that he and the Club have experienced over the last six months.

 ****

*** * * * ***

 

_**Six Months Earlier** _ _._

Oswald Construction was one of three businesses part of the Oswald conglomerate. Located between Modesto and Charming, the sprawling complex was the base for all of the industrial construction, farm and lumber equipment that was built and shipped all over the world. With its own airstrip and hanger holding several cargo jets to send its goods all over the world, Oswald Construction was a thriving business, only second to Oswald Lumber, with Oswald Beef a close third.

Elliott Oswald and the Oswald family employed a fair number of Charming's 14,679 inhabitants, as well as a large number of people from San Leandro and just recently added new hires to the construction branch of its business.

Sitting on his bike in the large employee parking lot, Jax finished a cigarette, tossing it onto the small, but rapidly growing pile at his feet and lit another one. It was almost six o'clock and he was still waiting for one of the many Oswald employees to come out.

Someone had to try and get through to her, but Jax wasn't sure he knew how to accomplish that or if he was even the right person to try.

It was nearly a month since Jax's best friend and brother had been killed right on the streets of what was supposed to be the safest town in all of NorCal. Using a gloved finger to swipe a tear from his eye, Jax was still somewhat shell-shocked and was having difficulty processing the fact that his childhood friend was no more.

Over the last few months, the Club had seen more than its fair share of shit hurled at them. Having enjoyed a peaceful and prosperous period, it all came to an abrupt end about six years with the Club experiencing its first shit-storm when Opie had taken the fall alone for blowing up a Mayan-owned truck yard. Kyle Hobart, the second man on the job and Ope's getaway ride, had abandoned him at the scene at the first sound of police sirens in the distance. Because the piece of chicken shit former-patch got anxious and even though Opie had been offered a plea deal if he turned against his brothers, his best friend chose to do a nickel in Chino and remain true to SAMCRO.

Having come out of prison a different man, Opie had tried for the sake of his old lady Donna and their kids to tow the straight and narrow by no longer earning with the Club. Trying to reclaim his family, Opie still felt the tug of the brotherhood and hated the life of earning shit-pay chucking wood alongside Donna's father and brothers for Oswald Lumber. The Winstons were falling behind on their bills and were in danger of not only losing their car, but their home as well. In spite of the promises made to his loyal and long-suffering wife, Opie felt he had no choice but to return to the Life. All he had ever known was the life of an outlaw biker, but his transition back into the fold had been complicated by the web of lies spun by the ambitious, vindictive and self-serving ATF Agent June Stahl.

Jax remembered the day the Club discovered that not only had Opie's debts been paid off by the federal government, but that he and his entire family had been rounded up during the night and taken into custody. The general consensus at the table, with the exception of Jax and Piney, had been that Opie had turned, but once he was released, he had voluntarily returned to the fold and had managed to convince his brothers that he was and would always be loyal to the Club.

Shortly thereafter, a gun sale between SAMCRO and the Mayans went south when Laroy Wayne and the One-Niners crashed the party after being tipped off, and stole both the guns and the money at the two separate exchanges. Later, calling it a night before the after-Church party broke up at the Clubhouse, Opie and Donna headed home to their children. They never made it. Instead, they were ambushed at a red light by a lone gunman who shot his best friend with a semi-automatic gun as he sat on his Harley behind Donna, who was driving the family car. Opie died on Main Street in the arms of his screaming wife.

Jax felt his chest tighten as he remembered how he and his brothers tore up the streets in order to get to the scene as Charming PD cordoned off the area with crime scene tape, only to find Donna, prostrate over her husband's body, keening and wailing like a wounded animal. It had taken all of Jax's strength to pull her away, he himself barely able to see Opie's bloody body through his own tears.

The funeral had been the biggest Jax could remember since his own father's. Opie Winston had been well-known and much-loved by his brothers spread out all over the country. Donna and the kids were barely shades of themselves as they leaned on Jax for support throughout the service. Still in shock, they mostly went through the motions of what was expected from them that day, still too numb to register that this was their final good-bye.

Now it was almost a month since Opie had been laid to rest and Donna had built a wall around herself and her children, refusing phone calls or visits. Not coming to any SOA functions, Donna had kept herself and the children sheltered away from anyone connected to the Club. She had even quit her job at Charming Savings & Loan as a bank teller, getting a new job at Oswald Construction. Jax had been able to cull that Intel secondhand from Clay, who got it directly from Elliott Oswald. Oswald, a friend of the Club, knew Opie well and had offered Donna an entry-level position well above the pay anyone else in the same position would get. Unaware that he had offered her the bump in salary as a favor to the Club, Donna was grateful for it as it would come in handy as she was now the sole provider of her family. Again.

Jax, however, had had enough. He had respected Donna's wishes and had given her as much room as possible to grieve for her husband, knowing that the extremely private woman deserved her space. But he had an obligation, a duty to take care of her for his brother's sake. Jax had done the best that he could for the Winston family, especially while Opie had been in prison, but Donna, being the independent woman that she was, would not take "charity."

 _Well that bullshit is over_ , Jax decided gruffly as he spotted the petite woman exiting the large building and heading towards her ride. _It's time to beard the little lioness in her den._

 __

*** * * * ***

****

Digging through her bag for the keys to the pickup, Donna cursed under her breath as she hurried down the aisle towards her ride. Even though her mother was adamant about Donna coming straight home after work to relieve her of babysitting duty, Donna had let herself get dragged into solving another office crisis at the last minute and was running late.

 _That's what I get for trying to be helpful_ , Donna thought ruefully, mentally preparing herself for the verbal beatdown she was in store for the minute she got home.

As much as Donna appreciated the help her mother had offered as she transitioned into a new job, she resented the joy her mother seemed to get out of martyring herself by cleaning up the "mess" Donna had made of her life by marrying a criminal. The fact was, if Donna didn't need every penny she earned to stay current with her bills, she would gladly cut herself off from her own family as well.

She had managed just fine without anyone's help while Opie had been inside. The only difference between then and now, however, was that back then, Donna only needed to stay afloat until her husband came home again. This time, he wasn't coming home and even though her new job as a senior clerk in the Inventory Department paid $5,000 more a year than her old job as a bank teller, it still wasn't enough. It wasn't enough to support her family and build up her savings so that she could get her family the hell out of Charming as soon as possible.

Because that was her plan.

Donna Winston had had enough. The last 5½ years had been a hard struggle, to say the least. It had not been easy working a shitty, low-paying job—maxing out her credit cards to borrow from Peter to pay Paul—while trying to raise two growing children on one income and no health insurance until her husband got out of prison. But she had done it, and had done so willingly because she loved Opie Winston with all her heart.

Donna chose to believe Opie when he promised that, once he got out, things would get better for them, as a couple and as a family. That the five long years he had spent in prison away from his loved ones had been the wake-up call he needed to see that living the outlaw life would only end up hurting his family.

And to his credit, Ope had tried. But the pull the Club had on him had been too strong. The lure of quick and fast money too great, especially when they were working so hard and still barely managed to have enough money left over for groceries.

 _He was born SAMCRO and he died SAMCRO_ , she thought bitterly to herself. Meanwhile the Club couldn't give a shit.

Oh, Gemma meant well. A couple of months before Opie had died, Donna had run into the Queen of Charming at the grocery store. Paying for the items that Donna had to leave behind because she couldn't afford them, Gemma followed her out to her car and gave her the bag of groceries along with some unwanted advice. Standing there, listening to Gemma's "SAMCRO-is-the-glue" speech, Donna hadn't believed a word of it.

The fact was that the only one Donna ever believed truly cared about Opie's family was his best friend. It was Jax who had actually made the most impact when Donna had been almost ready to leave Opie. Giving her some tough love, Jax told Donna that Gemma was full of shit. For Opie, the Club wasn't the glue that held his shit together. _She_ was and that without her love and support, Opie would only get himself killed.

 _And he was right_ , Donna thought bleakly. _Only I waited too long to take his advice. Only AFTER the ATF bitch started playing hardball, only AFTER I saw how much Opie was trying to fight for us as a family did I really get it. But it was too damn late. Too late for him. Too late for me._

Finally finding her keys as she stopped at the driver's side door, Donna didn't notice that she wasn't alone until she felt a strong, masculine hand resting on her shoulder. Whipping around suddenly, Donna used her oversized purse as a battering ram to rain blows on her would-be attacker.

"Donna, stop it! Damn it, it's me!"

Shuddering with a deep breath, Donna looked up into the deep blue eyes of Jackson Teller.

 

*** * * * ***

 

Running a trembling hand through her shoulder length dark hair, Donna glared angrily at the tall blond biker as she tried to get her rapidly beating heart under control. "Shit, Jax! Why the hell would you sneak up on me like that? You almost gave me a frickin' heart attack!"

Rubbing a hand over the hair on his chin, Jax sighed. "I'm sorry, Donna. I didn't mean to scare the shit out of you."

The pinched, hurt look on his face had Donna almost wishing she had reacted differently. Almost. She crossed her arms underneath her chest as she leaned back against the pickup's door. "What are you doing here?"

Looking down at the petite woman, who had quickly managed to get her armor back into place after getting over the shock of seeing him, Jax countered, "Why the fuck do you think I'm here, huh? It's been weeks since anyone has seen you. You've been MIA at the Clubhouse. You won't come to the door when anyone comes by, you don't pick up the phone, or return messages. You left your job at the bank and, had I not heard it through the grapevine, no one would even know that you were working here."

"Maybe that's the way I wanted it. Ever think of that?" She asked, refusing to meet his eyes.

Stepping into her personal space, Jax managed to corner her so that she could not move. Reaching out, he took the tip of his gloved index finger to raise Donna's bowed head. "I miss him too, you know."

Her head suddenly snapped up, her eyes flashing at him with pent up fury. "Well, that's really nice to know," Donna sneered. "But that doesn't exactly help, does it?" Angrily dashing her tears aside, she tried to use her hip to force enough space between the two of them so that she could get into her pickup and leave, but Jax was not budging. "Will you please move? My mom's waiting for me. I'm running late and I have to get home to feed my kids."

"How are the kids doing?" Jax asked gravely.

"How the fuck do you think they're doing?" Suddenly losing herself, Donna blurted out. "The man that they hardly had a chance to know again, their father is DEAD, and they're never going to see him again. They'll never get the chance to know him—" Her voice caught in her throat as she started to sob.

Reaching out, Jax tried to wrap his arms around the weeping woman, but Donna pushed him away, her small fists landing blow after blow on the hard, muscled plains of his chest and arms. All of the emotions, the rage, the pain, and the bitterness that Donna had been holding in for over a month as she struggled to be strong for her children, suddenly unleashed and, in that moment, she was wild and uncontrollable.

"Let me go, damn it! Let me go!" She screamed, but Jax refused. Jax wrapped his arms around her like a vise as she continued to beat on his chest, not even trying to block the small but painful blows. He let himself cry freely as he desperately tried to comfort his best friend's widow.

Burying his face in her hair, he whispered hoarsely, "I'm sorry, Donna. God, I am so, so sorry."

Hearing his voice, hearing the pain so similar to her own, finally caused Donna to stop struggling. Collapsing into his arms, she clung to Jax Teller like he was a lifeline as she wept bitterly, letting her overwhelming grief take over.

The two grief-stricken people stood, hidden between Opie's pick-up truck and the SUV parked next to it as they mourned the loss of the man that they both loved so dearly.

Jax looked down at Donna as she used her small fists to wipe at her red-rimmed eyes and swollen face. Gently tucking her hair behind one ear, Jax swallowed the lump in his throat. "I think that was a longtime coming, huh?"

Finally resting her head against his chest, Donna sighed. "Yeah, it was." She whispered.

Digging into his back pocket, he handed her a clean but worn blue bandana. "Well, maybe you should use this as a snot rag instead of my kutte."

Suddenly snorting with totally unexpected laughter, Donna snatched it out of his hand. "Asshole." She grumbled. Jax smiled as he watched her wipe her face free of any remaining tears and snot. "I must look a fuckin' mess."

"You look fine." Jax assured her. _Actually, she looks beautiful._ "Come on, let's get you home." Jax bent down to pick up Donna's handbag, which had fallen onto the pavement after she started wailing on him. "What the hell, Don? What have you got in this thing? Bricks?"

"Oh, shut the hell up, Teller. As many women as you've bagged in your lifetime you'd think you would bother to learn a thing or two about them. Specifically, we have an inbred need to carry around as much shit as possible in our purses." Grabbing the bag from him, she opened the driver's side door of the pickup and threw it on the passenger seat.

"And I bet most of it is completely unnecessary, too." Holding her hand, Jax helped Donna get into the truck and slammed the door after her. "I'm gonna follow you home. Make sure you get there okay."

From her vantage point in the truck, Donna now realized that Jax had blocked her truck with his bike and shook her head. "You weren't letting my ass get out of here without talking to you first, were you?"

Flashing her a shit-eating grin, Jax shook his head. "Nope. One thing you should know about me by now, Donna Winston. Eventually, I always get what I want."

Watching as the young blond biker swaggered towards his ride, the petite woman sighed to herself.

"Oh I know." Donna muttered to herself. "What I don't know is why that suddenly scares the shit out of me."

 

*** * * * ***

 

Sitting in her Cadillac at a red light on Main Street, Gemma was busy lighting a cigarette when she saw Opie Winston's pickup truck head west on Heath Road with Donna behind the wheel. It had been weeks since Gemma had laid eyes on the young widow, the last time being at Opie's funeral. However, seeing her was not the reason she was now desperately trying to put out the lit cigarette that had fallen out of her mouth and into her lap.

It was the sight of the bike trailing behind Donna as she headed in the obvious direction of the Winston home.

Gemma knew that she shouldn't really be so surprised that her son had finally managed to pin Donna down. While Gemma was deeply saddened by the death of the young patch she had always loved like a son, of all of the Club members who were mourning Opie, she knew it was Jax who suffered the most.

Jax's grief seemed to overwhelm him at times. He was spending less time at the Club and more time at the NICU at St. Thomas bonding with his son Abel. It was the only silver lining in an otherwise dark cloud. It almost seemed like Opie's death had accomplished what Gemma herself had been unable to. It had managed to pull Jax closer to his sick son.

But Gemma's instincts were on high alert, especially when it came to her son. They were telling her that Jax was in a very bad place emotionally, making him vulnerable, and that was a dangerous place for an outlaw biker to be. The fact that she could see it in him had Gemma very concerned for Jax because it was only a matter of time before his brothers noticed the change in him as well. As it was, Clay's patience with Jax's grieving process was starting to wear thin.

It was painfully obvious to Gemma, judging from her old man's actions in private, that Opie's death was not the result of some feud between rival gangs. Although Gemma believed that Clay was in fact grief-stricken himself over the loss of his sponsor's son, she could sense in him his concern over how what went down would impact the Club and his place in it.

Having left Clay and Tig talking in her greenhouse while she headed over to St. Thomas to spend time with her grandson, Gemma couldn't ignore her gut and it was telling her that there was some serious shit between the two men. She could only hope that eventually the Club would get its act together. The brotherhood needed closure in order to achieve a measure of peace. The more questions that remained unanswered, the more likely it was that Jax would start digging for the truth concerning Opie's death.

As for Donna Winston, Gemma was not sure that there was anything that could be done for the angry young woman. Gemma simply did not have the same relationship with Donna that she had with other old ladies. Truth was, she had always been unable to pin Donna down as the young woman did not seem to be intimidated by the Queen of Charming at all. Donna had done her best to keep herself and her family away from the Club while Opie had been in prison and had blown off every attempt Gemma had made to reach out to her. Hopefully, now with Donna on his radar, Jax would be able to succeed where she had failed and finally bring Donna and her kids into the fold.

After all, Opie had been SAMCRO and SAMCRO was a family that not even death could tear apart. And family always looked out for each other.

 

*** * * * ***

 

After parking her car, Gemma made her way up to the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit. The only other person in this world that she loved as much as her son was her grandson Abel. It was a miracle that the child had managed to survive the circumstances of his birth. Stepping out of the elevator, Gemma grimaced as she saw one of the reasons why.

Standing at the Nurses Station, Dr. Tara Knowles seemed quite competent and mature as she doled out instructions to a nurse and orderly. Passing by her, Gemma eyed the woman with a slight sneer on her face.

 _Stuck up little bitch_ , the Queen of Charming thought as she glided across the floor heading for Abel's room.

While Gemma appreciated the fact that she was a good doctor and had been helpful in assisting Dr. Namid, the resident pediatric surgeon, in saving Abel's life, as far as Gemma was concerned, Tara Knowles would always be bad news.

Gemma had been surprised and, if honest, worried when she heard that Tara had returned to Charming. That the young woman had returned as a doctor had been no real surprise. Anyone who had known Tara back in the day knew that the bitch was smart. She had almost been smart enough to convince Jax to leave the Club and his family behind when she relocated to Illinois in order to go to college.

Fortunately for Gemma and the Club, Jax had made the decision to stay behind, hoping that Tara would have a change of heart and stay as well. Needless to say, Tara, whose own home life had been less than picture perfect, couldn't wait to get out of Charming, with or without Jax. Jax, who at nineteen was already used to getting his way when it came to women, had not been prepared to deal with the devastation that Tara's abandonment would cause him. He spent the next several years throwing himself into the Club and at 27 had managed to become the youngest VP in the Club's history.

However, he also spent whatever remaining time he had drowning himself in all the available pussy within a 200-square mile radius of the Clubhouse. Gemma hadn't cared as long as he kept his junk wrapped and didn't bring home a croweater, thinking he could turn a whore into a housewife.

Unfortunately, he was guilty as charged on both counts. Not only had Jax shown up at the Clubhouse married to the current bane of her existence, Wendy Case, but later on, he managed to knock her up as well.

Wendy, an ex-showgirl from Reno, had somehow succeeded where others couldn't and had managed to get her son to put a ring on it. Had it been anyone else—except Tara Knowles, of course—Gemma would have been happy that Jax was finally settling down, but Wendy's biggest problem, aside from not being old lady material, was her crank habit. But even that did not surprise Gemma as her son seemed to have a fetish for damsels in distress.

Even though the Queen had advised her son quite bluntly to stop throwing money at those 12-step freaks because once a junkie, always a junkie, Jax continued wasting his efforts in trying to save Wendy from herself. After failing to stay clean one too many times, Jax had finally filed for divorce, only to backtrack when her last round of rehab seemed to stick. Against Gemma's better judgment (and she was sure, his own), Jax and Wendy made an ill-advised attempt at reconciliation, which resulted in Wendy getting pregnant.

Taking a spectacular fall off the wagon, the stupid bitch fell back into her meth habit with a vengeance in spite of her pregnancy and had given birth to Abel. Born ten weeks premature, not only had the baby already won the shitty parents lottery by way of Sid and Nancy of the biker world, but had been born with a hole in his heart thanks to the Maddoc family flaw and a hole in his belly thanks to his piece of shit egg donor's inability to stay clean for the sake of her unborn child. As frosting on the poor thing's shit cake, Abel was also born addicted to crank with the doctors at St. Thomas giving him a 20% chance of survival.

 _But my grandson is a fighter_ , Gemma smiled to herself. He fought to overcome the bad hand that he had been dealt and was making progress with each new day that dawned. Although still in an incubator in the NICU, Abel's doctors hoped that Jax would soon be able to hold his son for the first time. And, if he continued to improve, Abel would be ready to go home in the very near future.

Not bad for a kid who ran a greater chance of getting struck by lightning while _inside_ the hospital than he did of living to see his first birthday.

Gemma rolled her eyes as she walked into Abel's private room and she saw her daughter-in-law sitting by his incubator, reading him a story. Smirking, Gemma noticed that the large black bible sitting next to her on a side table was the very same bible in which Gemma had placed a syringe filled with enough crank to kill a horse.

_Too bad it hadn't worked. Now that she's got Jesus on her side, the bitch thinks all is forgiven._

Unfortunately, to Gemma's way of thinking, it looked like it might turn out that way. On the legal front, Wendy had barely managed to escape being charged with fetal abuse. Having completed a two-month stint in rehab, she was now residing in a sober-living house in Lincoln Village while spending her days with Abel in the hospital.

_And now I'm about to extend the fuckin' olive branch._

Gemma was a realist by nature. She didn't try to sugarcoat the facts or pretend not see the reality of a situation or the shortcomings of weak-minded people. She knew that Tara Knowles was back in Charming for a reason and that reason had something to do with her son. As she told Jax several weeks ago as they stood over his son's toaster, Jax's name for the incubator that was keeping his son warm as he was unable to regulate his own body temperature, "You never forget when someone hurts your baby."

 _You don't forget and you sure as hell don't forgive either_.

Gemma was not about to let Tara-fucking-Knowles to get her claws back into her son, so her only option was to back another horse in the race for Jackson Teller's affections, and who better than the mother of his baby?

On another day in another universe, the answer to that question would be ANYONE but the mother of his baby. At the moment, however, Gemma had very little to work with, and it was the only card she could play.

 _Wendy was weak and easily manipulated. Once I get Tara out of the way, it should be no problem keeping this one in line_.

Sitting down in the chair opposite Wendy, Gemma crossed her legs and fixed her narrowed eyes on the woman.

"So how is my grandson doing?"

Wendy closed the book she was reading and placed it on top of the table. "He's been sleeping ever since I got here. The nurse said that his vitals are really good today and that he took a full bottle."

"Well, I guess we can be happy that my grandson is a survivor. No thanks to you."

Wendy cringed in her chair, but knew that the older woman's venom was well-deserved.

It had taken the near death of her own baby to wake Wendy up to the bad decisions she had made. Wendy was deeply ashamed that she had allowed herself to slip back into using the drugs that had almost killed her son. Unable to deal with what she had done, she had tried to take the easy way out Gemma had offered by way of a drug overdose. Instead, God in His infinite wisdom had decided to give her a second chance when the doctors at St. Thomas had been able to revive her. Now that she was clean, she was determined to get her son back. If having to prove herself to Gemma Teller was a necessary evil in order to make that happen, then Wendy was prepared to do whatever it took.

"You haven't said anything that I don't already know." Wendy replied. "But this time, I'm going to make it."

Gemma crossed her arms under her chest. "And why should I believe that this spiel is any different from all the other times you've made the same bullshit claims after getting out of rehab?"

"Because this time I have my baby to live for." Wendy said with a little spark in her voice.

"Well, my bad for having my doubts since you seem to be so damn sincere." Gemma scoffed.

"It's not important whether you believe or not. It's the truth."

"It's more important than you think, little girl," Gemma charged. "Because I'm the only thing standing between you and my grandson. What I want to know is what do _you_ want?"

Wendy shrugged her shoulders. "I want my son."

"And Jax?"

"Jax?" The woman asked almost stupidly.

"Do. You. Want. Jax?" Gemma spelled it out. _The girl's a fuckin' moron._

Afraid to answer, not sure where the older woman was going with this line of questioning, Wendy finally realized she had nothing to lose.

"Yes. I still love him and want him back. I want my family back together."

For a long moment, Gemma stared at her and then, to Wendy's great relief, nodded. "Good. If that's what you really want, I'm willing to help you, but you can't fuck around, not when that little angel is involved. I want my grandson settled, happy and safe. You are his mother and, if you're serious about getting your shit together, I'm willing to help you, but this deal is on my terms. Not yours, agreed?"

Wendy nodded slowly. _If I have to dance with the devil to get my life back, I'll do it._

"All right. Then we have some work to do."

_The plan to keep Tara Knowles away from my son is now in effect. God help anybody who stands in my way._

 

*** * * * ***

 

Sitting on a lounge chair in Gemma's greenhouse, Clay Morrow chewed on his cigar as he eyed his SAA grimly, who was pouring them both another round of whiskey. "It's Murphy's Law. Whatever could go wrong, did. There's nothing we can do about it now."

Picking up his shot glass, Tig threw the contents down, burning a trail of fire down his throat. "No, we can't do shit about the past, brother, but we sure as shit are gonna have to do something about the present."

The two men sat in what was comfortable silence for them. Having been brothers in the mother charter for over 15 years, Alexander "Tig" Trager had been protecting the back of Clarence "Clay" Morrow ever since he took over the presidency of the Club. Over the years, they had spilled a lot of blood together, but this was the first time that Tig had ever spilled innocent blood.

The circumstances surrounding the death of Opie Winston were murky at best. With Opie only recently returning to the Club, he had quickly come under suspicion when it was revealed that a confidential informant had identified Robert "Bobby" Munson as the one who shot and killed Brenan Heffner, the Oakland docks port official responsible for the death of Michael McKeevy.

Subsequently, the Club had discovered that all of Opie's debts had been paid and that he and his family had disappeared overnight and had been in the custody of federal agents. Set free and back on the streets of Charming, Opie had voluntarily come to the table to plead his innocence to his brothers. At the time it was agreed that SAMCRO believed that he had been speaking the truth.

But only moments after the meeting, Tig revealed to Clay that Opie's car and phone had been bugged. That evidence was circumstantial at best, but in conjunction with the payment of Opie's debts, had been enough for the two men to find Opie guilty. Not wanting to tear the charter apart, the SAMCRO President and his Sergeant-at-Arms had conspired to take care of the threat themselves.

Only they had been wrong, horribly wrong when it came to the assessment of their brother's character. Just minutes after Tig had left the Clubhouse to take care of the Club's "rat problem", Chief Wayne Unser had shown up to advise Clay that Opie was in fact innocent. That he had been hung out like so much bait by June Stahl, the ATF bitch gunning after SAMCRO.

Although Clay had desperately tried to stop the hit, it had been too late. In an attempt to make it appear that Opie was a victim of a gang drive-by, Tig had approached Opie in a stolen SUV, killed him in front of his wife, and fled the scene.

"Brother," Tig said. "We are in some serious shit. If it becomes public knowledge that you put a hit out on Ope and that he was killed _after_ we had confirmation that he was no rat, we are both dead. I killed my brother. A man I swore to protect with my own life and I fuckin' feel like shit."

Clay eyed his cohort and nodded. "It's not your fault. You couldn't have known."

"What really sucks is that I had the chance to take Ope out the way we had planned, at the payment pick up with the Mayans, but with the Niners crashing the party, it was nothing but blood and bullets." Tig reached out to pour himself another shot. "Opie saved my ass, Clay. He never hesitated and took out a Niner just before the bastard was going to put one in the back of my head. I had the opportunity to do him then, but I just couldn't take the shot. My gut wouldn't let me. I wish I had listened to my gut again that night."

Clay shook his head solemnly. "Sometimes I forget the weight of the shit I ask you to do," He conceded. "But, based on the information we had at the time, it had to be done. And you're right. We have to handle this shit and quick. We gotta try and make things right. Give everybody some closure so that the Club can move on. And that means providing a scapegoat to take the fall for killing Opie." Clay pointed a finger at Tig.

"And how are we going to do that?" His SAA argued.

"I've already talked to Unser and Trammell about it." Clay replied and proceeded to share the details of his conversations with both men.

Tig sat back in his chair and contemplated the scenario. "That could work, but—"

"But what?"

"We accused Ope of turning on the Club at the table just days before he died. Do you really think that no one is going to question whether or not the ATF hanging him out as a rat had something to do with him being dead?"

"We'll _make_ them believe it didn't."

"Then you better be able to convince the one person at the table who will find the fatal flaw in our plan by analyzing and questioning shit. Jax ain't stupid. You made him your VP for a reason. If he doesn't believe that justice was done for his brother, he's gonna keep digging until the truth comes out."

"Then we make sure the truth doesn't come out."

"And if we can't?" Tig pushed.

Clay rolled his cigar between his fingers, took a puff and exhaled. "Then we'll handle Jax on our own."


	3. Haunted

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy.**

Fear not for the future, weep not for the past.  
—Percy Bysshe Shelley

What's gone and what's past help should be past grief.  
—William Shakespeare

_**One Month After Opie's Death** _

The vibe in the Chapel was solemn as the patches took their seats around the Redwood table. They were finally coming together to talk about retaliation for the murder of their brother-in-arms, Opie Winston.

And for some at the table, the call for vengeance was long overdue.

Making eye contact with Piney across the table, Jax returned the small nod that his best friend's father had acknowledged him with. Of all the men who shared a patch with Opie, it was these two men who, even after a month, were still greatly affected by their loss.

Slamming down the gavel, the SAMCRO Pres called the meeting to order. Putting his cigar in the ashtray beside him, Clay blew out a stream of smoke before speaking. "This meeting today has been a long time coming and I know that it's been difficult on everyone here, but none more so than on you, Piney, and you, Jax."

"It's been over a fuckin' month, Clay!" Piney growled. "All this time wasted as my boy rots six feet under and we haven't done jackshit to bring his killer to justice. How can I bring comfort to his mother, his wife, and his children if I can't comfort myself while knowing that the motherfucker who took Opie away from us is still alive and free?"

The SAMCRO President held up a hand. "I know, brother, and you're absolutely right. But we all know that this charter has been put through miles of shit over the last couple of months. With the ATF camped right in our own backyard, we couldn't afford to get sloppy with this. I, for one, take what happened to Opie very personally. I sponsored your son, saw the boy grow into a man, and watched him learn how to handle his shit. He showed his loyalty to the brotherhood when he kept his peace and did a nickel in Chino for a job that was botched by a now-former member. Trust me, as his President, no one wants to go barreling in with guns blazing more than me to avenge my fallen brother. And there is no way that his killer won't be brought to justice, not on my watch. But there were a lot of reasons that made sense for us to wait until now to finish this."

"And jus wha are those reasons, brutha? Because I, for one, would surely like to know." Chibs spoke up, pushing his sunglasses up to his forehead.

Not expecting his judgment to be called into question after his seemingly heartfelt preamble, Clay sighed heavily as he leaned back in his chair. "First off, we just got that ATF gash off our backs. With her RICO case blown to shit—thanks to Big Otto—and with the witness they had lined up to testify against Bobby in the Hefner shooting falling off the grid, Stahl had dick on the Club. According to Unser, the bitch was pulled off of the case and word is that her ass was shipped off to some backwater field office last week. I'm sure everyone will agree with me that it was best to wait until Stahl was out of the picture before we moved forward. And with Bobby coming home at the end of the week, NOW is the time to avenge Ope." Clay declared.

Tig picked up the ball. "Second, we needed to gather Intel to make sure that we focus our rage at the right target. That gangster SUV—"

"Obviously belonged to one of the fuckin' Niners!" Piney interrupted angrily. "This had ghetto drive-by written all over it! What other fuckin' Intel did you need?"

Tig was shaking his head. "No, Piney. You're wrong, brother." He insisted. "No one at the scene could positively identify the driver as black. Not the guy walking the dog or Donna. Besides, Clay and I are pretty sure that the hit was intentionally staged so that the Niners would take the fall."

Blowing out a stream of blue smoke, Jax put his cigarette out in the ashtray. "So you're saying what? That brown, not black is responsible for the hit?"

"Mayans?" Juice queried.

"Yeah, Mayans." Clay replied. "Tig and I went to Oak-Town today to meet with Laroy."

"Why?" Piney roared incredulously, unwilling to let what was clearly obvious to him go. "He's the piece of shit responsible."

"Why do you keep saying that?" Tig roared back angrily. "What fuckin' proof have you got that we somehow overlooked, old man?"

"And how the hell do you know that the Intel you got is legit, huh, asshole?" Piney yelled back.

"Whoa! Everybody, contain your shit!" Clay called out, banging the gavel for emphasis. With Tig and Piney settling back into their seats, Clay continued. "Yeah, Laroy was pissed that we were going back on our arrangement to sell guns only to his crew. He said as much during our meet, which was why they crashed our little soiree with the Mexicans. The intention behind the shoot-'em-up at the sale was to let everybody know just how big their dicks are. Now that things have calmed down, and our business with the Mayans is over, as far as Laroy is concerned, the Niners and the Sons are good. He wants back in on our playground because we gots the best toys. Without our merch, the Niners can't control the H trade. They need us. And we need them, if we want to continue earning."

"And you're just going to take him on his word?" Jax asked skeptically.

"Yeah, I am, fuck you very much." Clay glared at his VP. "Only one other crew could be pissed off enough to come to Charming and gun a brother down."

"It had to be Alvarez." Tig nodded in agreement. "He thinks we set him up, took his money and then we left him behind to get shredded by the Niners."

"The Intel pretty much confirms that the shooter was a Mayan." Clay confirmed. "Trammel looked into it himself. A black Range Rover, like the one used in the drive-by, was jacked outside a bar in Alameda, only to show up two days later just two miles down the road from the Mayan Clubhouse in Hayward. There were MAC-10 casings on the floor. Same kind of gun that killed Opie."

"Shit!" Jax growled.

"There were prints on the dash, too. Trammel promised us a name before the end of the day." Clay smiled as he took a puff of his cigar. "I had some of this Intel for a couple of weeks, but I made an executive decision to hold off bringing it to the table until we had the full facts. And until I could _convince_ Trammel to let us handle the 'arrest'."

Jax felt the slow burn of his anger building up inside of him. In part because Clay hadn't trusted his own VP enough to pull him in on this Intel, but mostly because the possibility existed that Opie got taken out because of a deal gone bad. A deal Jax had counseled Clay against making. Both calls showed a lack of good judgment on Clay's part because it didn't matter if it was black or brown who pulled the trigger. SAMCRO was getting so greedy that they brokered a deal with a sworn enemy of the MC. Each and every member who stood to line his pocket with the money made from the Mayan deal was to blame for Opie's death.

_If I had known it would escalate to this point, I would have killed Alvarez and Laroy myself before Clay and I got the hell out of the Niners' attack. I'm just as guilty as they are and I have to make this right for Ope._

"I'm the one who kills him." Jax declared, his jaw set in stone and his voice leaving no room for argument.

Clay almost heaved another sigh, this time of relief, as he saw the cold flinty blue eyes of his stepson. _Looks like he's on board._

"Agreed. You, Tig, Juice and Chibs, handle this shit. Be ready to make the move as soon as we get the Intel from Trammel." Clay slammed the gavel down, signifying the end of the meeting.

As the rest of the brothers headed out, Jax was the last to get out of his seat. Instead of heading to the bar with the others, however, he closed the Chapel door and turned to face his President.

"Something wrong?" Clay asked, re-lighting his cigar.

"Yeah, there is." Jax resumed his seat and eyed his stepfather. "I know you're Club President and, up until five minutes ago, I never questioned your judgment, but as VP and Opie's friend, I should have been kept in the loop about this Intel."

Clay took another puff of his cigar, his icy glare fixed on his stepson. "I appreciate you bringing your concerns regarding my judgment directly to me and behind closed doors." He said sarcastically. "I suggest, however, that you re-think your position concerning how I choose to run the Club. You've been questioning a lot lately, haven't you? First, we all had to work on getting you on board with the Mayan deal—"

"And considering how that turned out, will you at least concede that maybe I did have a point after all?" Jax interrupted.

Clay ran a ringed hand over the scruff on his chin. "Ordinarily, I would, but in this instance, I won't. We had no way of knowing that the Niners would react the way they did. And as far as me keeping you out of the loop, you are just too damn close to this situation, Jax. You're still grieving—harder than most. While that's not unexpected, it was my call to make on how much I thought you could handle, if you could make the hard choices and do what needs to be done. I'm letting you handle the situation because you need closure in order to move on, but if I didn't think you could do it, there's no fuckin' way I'd let you." Standing up, Clay headed for the door. "Now, don't fuck it up, VP, or I may start questioning my own judgment concerning who sits to my left."

 

*** * * * ***

 

Jax was sitting on the roof of the Clubhouse alone smoking a cigarette. If he was going to wait around for word from Trammel regarding the identity of the shooter, he couldn't do it inside. He needed fresh air in his lungs and a clear mind to deal with the shit storm that was making headway for Charming.

The young biker was still trying to process all he had learned during Church. Although relieved that the Club was finally going to take action, Jax couldn't reconcile Clay's reasoning for keeping him out of the loop. As Opie's closest friend and SAMCRO VP, Jax had the right know. He had the right to be involved in discussions regarding how retaliation would be executed.

Clay had always praised him for maintaining a cool head under pressure and for thinking outside the box. It struck Jax as odd that he would pick now, this situation, to question Jax's single-mindedness when it came to righting this wrong. As much as it hurt losing his best friend, the truth was brothers died all the time. In an outlaw MC, it was more than twice as likely to happen every time he or any member stepped foot outside the Clubhouse. It was his duty to protect his brothers with his own life, if necessary, and his right to avenge them if he couldn't. Something didn't feel right to Jax about the way Ope had gone down and Jax couldn't let go of the feeling that Clay's under-the-table maneuvering with Tig to keep him ignorant was a ploy to keep him under control.

The fact was that Jax had come to the same conclusion as Piney that the hit had been a result of Niner retaliation the moment he had recovered from the shock of seeing Opie's lifeless body splayed out on Main Street. As a result of the botched exchange, the Mayans ended up losing not only their shipment of merch, but a shitload of money as well. In the long run, however, it was the Niners who stood to lose much more. With the Mayans equally outfitted with the best hardware to be found in NorCal, the Niners were being set up to lose ground on a long-standing turf war. Laroy Wayne had every right to be pissed off that the Sons had reneged on a deal and Jax had predicted that they were inviting some seriously twisted shit to come raining down on them. He just never would have guessed that it would happen inside Charming, in front of Ope's wife, no less.

 _Shit_ , Jax cursed to himself as he lit another cigarette with the one he was about to finish. _There's always Donna Winston to consider, too._

She had been loyal to Opie during his five year stretch in Chino, not because she had to, but because she loved him. Jax had never known that kind of love and loyalty from a woman. Not even Tara, who had claimed to love him with the same all consuming passion he had, the "I need to be with you every moment or I'll die"-type love, but who still found it so easy to leave him behind when she couldn't deal with Gemma anymore. Or Wendy, who didn't love him—or herself or their son, for that matter—enough to stay clean.

That kind of loyalty should be rewarded, not punished, condemning Donna to live the rest of her life without the man she loved, the father of her children. Jax couldn't give her Opie back, but he could give her the peace of mind knowing that she and the kids were safe and that justice had been meted out.

In spite of himself, Jax found that he couldn't keep from smiling when thinking about Donna Winston. The last time he had seen her, just a couple of weeks ago, had reinforced for Jax just what a strong old lady his brother had had. And still had.

 

*** * * * ***

 

The Winston home was located in the middle-class neighborhood of Buckhead, also known as Sam Crow's Corner as several Club patches, including Jax, had homes in the neighborhood.

Similar to other houses on the block, the Winston home was a one-story, Ranch-style home with a driveway and a small patch of lawn out front, but boasted a huge yard out back. Originally a three bedroom abode, the covered back porch had recently been converted into a spare bedroom, just one of the projects Ope had tackled once released from Chino.

Pulling into the driveway behind Donna's pickup, Jax got off of his Dyna Glide as he removed his helmet and hung it on the bike's handlebars. Jumping out of the truck, Donna slammed the door and was surprised to find Jax standing next to her.

Crossing her arms, she eyed the tall blond biker. "You'd think by now I'd be used to looking up all the time."

Jax smiled. "Yeah, you are kinda on the miniature side. I feel like I can pick you up and put you in my pocket."

Donna smirked. "Wouldn't that be convenient? I bet you say that to all the girls."

"Nah, just you, darlin'." Jax teased.

"Ha . . . ha." Donna fake-yawned. Suddenly, raising an eyebrow, she crossed her arms under her chest as if waiting for something.

Jax made a big show of looking around, as if there were anybody else in their perimeter. "What?"

"I'm home, Jax."

Jax nodded solemnly as he stroked the hair on his chin. "Yeah, I got that. I did follow you here, you know."

Donna let out a big sigh as if Jax exasperated her, which he did, but not enough to be completely annoying. "I know you pride yourself on being something of a gentlemen biker, but there's no need to see me to the door. I'm a big girl."

"I _never_ said I was a gentleman." He grinned cockily at her.

"Oh, really? So the whole charm bit with the ladies is just a way to get them wet?" Donna asked, all wide-eyed innocence.

Jax gave Donna a startled look, his mouth a perfect "O". "Damn! You know, for a minute, I forgot what a saucy little mouth you have."

"Hey, I'm just calling it like I see it. According to Ope, the way you lay shit down with women is the stuff of legend." Opie didn't have to tell her that though. She had eyes for herself.

Donna had known of Jax Teller since before high school, but hadn't really gotten to know him until she and Opie started dating their sophomore year, around the same time that the notorious ladies' man had been taken off the market by Tara Knowles. Even back then, Jax's silver tongue was the stuff of legends. Once Jax Teller set his sights on a woman, his age or older—much older, as in the case of his mother's friends—she was better off leaving her panties at home because, if he had his way (and he usually did), they were dropping in a hot minute, no questions asked.

Jax grinned. "You may be right."

"Uh huh. Not exactly modest, are ya?"

Jax flashed Donna the patented Teller smile, in no hurry to end their playful banter. Their shared bout of tears and grief earlier in the Oswald Construction parking lot had done them both some good. The fact was, Jax didn't have female friends. It wasn't a conscious decision on his part. His lifestyle just didn't allow room for those kind of relationships, but he had always considered Donna a good friend and not only because she was his best friend's girl.

Opie had dated plenty before Donna and Jax would be hard pressed to remember any of their names. Donna was different. She gave as good as she got and wasn't at all taken in by the allure of a bad boy outlaw biker. If push came to shove and she had to call Jax an asshole to his face, she would, regardless of the fact that he was the SAMCRO VP. And sometimes, when his head got too big for his own liking, usually due to his mother's constant need to blow smoke up his ass, a little dose of Donna went a long way in keeping him grounded.

Now, in order to return the favor, his friend really needed someone on her side looking out for her and Jax was determined to do that. At the very least, Opie would have expected him to look out for his family.

After finally getting the chance to chisel away at the wall Donna had built around herself, Jax wasn't about to let the door of opportunity close again. Casually throwing an arm around the petite woman, Jax managed to coax her up the Winstons' walkway and into the house before she knew what hit her.

"Hey, Mom. Elle! Mom's home!" Kenny Winston yelled. Spotting his father's best friend, he grinned. "Hey, Uncle Jax."

"Hey, sport." Jax was surprised when the young boy ran to him and wrapped his arms around his waist. Returning the hug, Jax ruffled Kenny's reddish brown hair. "You being good for your Mom?"

Kenny eyed his mother warily as she rolled her eyes. "I was good today. I can't promise the same about tomorrow."

"Smart kid."

"Hello, Jackson." The frigid, cool voice came from across the living room, sending an involuntary shiver down his spine.

Giving a little sigh, Jax turned to look in the direction the voice had come from. Helen Lerner, Donna's mother and Opie's arch nemesis, had her handbag and car keys in one hand and a light blue spring jacket in the other as she eyed the biker distantly.

"Mrs. Lerner." Jax acknowledged, his eyes cutting to Donna. The smirk on her face said it all as she innocently shrugged her shoulders.

Crossing in front of Jax on her way into the living room, Donna said under her breath, "I tried warning ya."

"That was hardly a warning." Jax retorted through clenched teeth.

It was safe to say that pretty much since day one, the Lerner family had been against Donna marrying Opie Winston. Jax wouldn't be too surprised to learn that, after trying to convince Donna to divorce her husband while he was in lock up and failing, that the Lerners saw Opie's death as a blessing in disguise. It was likely that they also believed that with Opie out of the picture, Donna was freed from the ties that bound her to the Club. What outsiders never seemed to understand was that not even death could sever the ties of brotherhood. As long as Opie died a member in good standing, he would forever be SAMCRO. And so would his widow and children.

"Donna, I left a casserole warming in the oven for dinner, with a green salad in the fridge. I would stay, but I have to get home and put dinner on the table for your father." Bending down to kiss a reluctant Kenny on the forehead, the older woman quickly said goodnight, without acknowledging Jax again, and left.

"And I bet you thought there wasn't a woman alive I couldn't charm." Jax teased, feeling a whole helluva lot less tense now that the Ice Queen had departed.

"Yeah, you know, I'm glad you noticed 'cause I thought it was just me, but I was kinda getting the vibe that she doesn't like you very much." Donna kidded as Jax flashed her a look that said "You don't say!" Donna realized that she was probably in for an epic reaming later by her mother regarding the company she was keeping.

"Can you stay for dinner, Uncle Jax?" Kenny seemed to perk up once his grandmother had left. "There's plenty and it'll be just like when Dad was—" The young boy suddenly stopped.

Seeing Donna bite her lip as she rapidly blinked her suddenly moist eyes, Jax nodded. "I thought you'd never ask, K-man." He smiled as the little boy jumped about a foot into the air to high five him.

"Uncle Jax!" Nine-year old Ellie Winston ran into the room, holding a notebook in her hand as she went into Jax's embrace. "It's so good to see you." She whispered into his kutte as she clung to him.

Jax pressed a kiss onto the top of her head. "It's good to see you, too, Elle."

Pulling out of his embrace, the small girl with her mother's hair and eyes tried her best to smile at Donna. The feel and smell of her uncle's leather had fooled her into thinking for just a split second that her daddy was still alive. "Hi, Mom."

"Hey, baby." Donna kissed Ellie's forehead as she hugged her tight. "Let's wash up so you can help me get dinner on the table. Your Uncle Jax is joining us, okay?"

It was a little awkward at first, sitting at the family dinner table in a chair opposite the empty one usually occupied by Opie, but Jax did the best he could to make the evening comfortable and somewhat fun for the Winston kids. It was only after Donna had settled the kids in for the night that they were finally alone and Jax could finally say what he had been building up to all night.

"I better get my ass back to the Clubhouse. I got a lot of shit to do tomorrow," Jax announced as he folded up the dish towel he had been using to dry dishes as Donna washed.

Looking up at Jax, Donna smiled, but he could see that the sadness had creeped back into her eyes. "Thanks for staying for dinner. You really mean a lot to the kids."

Jax quirked an eyebrow. "And their mom too, I hope." He teased.

Donna smacked him in the midsection with the towel he had just folded. "Yes, asshole, and their mom, too." She chuckled.

"Come on, walk me out. I need to talk to you for a bit, but I've been dying for a cigarette." Jax said, pulling a pack out of his kutte.

Donna nodded, suddenly realizing that she had been waiting all evening for the proverbial shoe to drop. She had no clue what it was Jax wanted to talk about, but whatever it was, it had been heavy enough that he had waited for the kids to go to bed before bringing it up. The thought that what Jax had to say would spoil the best evening she and the kids have had since Opie died made her a little sad.

Standing on Donna's porch, Jax leaned against the open doorway as his eyes took in the pretty picture Donna made. With her shoulder length hair curling a little at the ends, an oversized t-shirt and a pair of roomy cutoffs made up her ensemble. Still looking like the typical girl-next-door, it was almost like Donna hadn't aged a day in the ten years she had been married to an outlaw biker. That in itself was a miracle, but throw in the fact that she was also the mother of Ope's Sasquatch spawn, if Donna could bottle her formula for staying so young, fresh, and pretty, she'd be able to buy and sell all the Hales and Oswalds in Charming. Looks were deceiving, however, because even though her face, scrubbed free of make-up, looked relaxed, Jax could still see the tension in her slight shoulders.

As Jax lit a cigarette, he took a moment to gather his thoughts as Donna's blue-green eyes never left his face.

"Look, I know Ope never really talked to you about Club business and I wanna respect that, but I thought that you should know that the Club is actively working on trying to find out who killed him." Jax started.

Donna took a deep breath as she put up a hand. "You're right, Jax. Opie never discussed Club business with me, but that was my choice, not his." Hearing this surprised Jax. He had always been under the impression that Opie had made that call in order to protect Donna. But it wasn't nearly as surprising as what Donna said next. "And that has to be my single most greatest regret when it comes to my relationship with Opie. I cut myself off from a major part of who my husband was by pretending that within these four walls the Club didn't exist. Only now do I realize how unfair that was and how difficult it must have been for him."

Jax was shaking his head. "Don't do this to yourself, Donna. Opie knew just how much you loved him. The Life ain't easy and nobody knew that better than Ope. Any patch will tell ya that a good old lady is worth her weight in gold if only because she's taken on the burden of loving an outlaw. You kept him whole, and that's all any of us ever want. We don't have the right to ask for anything more."

"Really? I find that hard to believe with old ladies like Gemma Teller-Morrow walking around, telling the rest of us how much we suck because we're not her." Donna replied bitterly.

Blowing the smoke from his last drag away from Donna as he flicked his unfinished cigarette away, Jax leaned towards her. "I love my mom, but being un-Gemma-like is actually a good thing, Don. Don't tell her I said that, though." Jax smiled causing Donna to hiccup a chuckle as she stealthily swiped tears from her cheeks. "You were exactly what Ope needed and trust me, he never complained."

Donna was looking up at Jax with wide, moist eyes. She wanted to believe what he was saying so badly, she could actually feel the pain of that want as it wrapped itself around her heart.

"Is that true, Jax? Because you once told me that I was the glue that could hold my family together, but I was too late, wasn't I? No matter what I do to raise and provide for my children, there will always be a part missing from the equation, and the really sad part is that they won't ever really understand that it's missing because they never got the chance to know their father. We were only together as a family again for a couple of months. Kenny and Ellie didn't get to know Opie the way they should have. To love him the way I did."

"And that wasn't your fault." Jax said, his hands on her shoulders as he squeezed them reassuringly.

"Wasn't it?" Donna was now angrily swiping the tears from her face. "I certainly could have done more, been more supportive. Maybe things would have been different for us then, right?"

"No," Jax shook his head. "Donna, the only person responsible for you not being with your husband is the fuckin' asshole who killed him. And I promise you, darlin', whoever took Ope away from his family will pay, with their life."

Donna looked up into Jax's earnest face for a long time. "I understand why retaliation is necessary, Jax, but I hope you understand that, even though I want justice for my husband, the thought of the Club committing cold-blooded murder in his name repels me."

Jax pulled her into his arms, his chin resting on the top of her head as Donna clung to him. "You wouldn't be the woman Opie loved if it didn't."

With her face buried in the granite wall of his chest, Donna allowed herself to mourn her husband once again, knowing that in order to move on, she was going to have to let Opie and the guilt go.

"I'm making a promise to myself, Jax, and I want you to bear witness." Donna pulled away from him as Jax gently cupped her face in his hands and thumbed away her tears. "I'm gonna rebuild my family again and when I do, _nothing_ will stop me from being the strong woman they need me to be. I will _never_ bail on them again."

 

*** * * * ***

 

Dr. Tara Knowles slammed the door to her locker and sat down on a low wooden bench while she dug around her bag for her hospital key card and car keys.

Tara had ended up working a double shift and, even though she was exhausted, after working a 24-hour rotation, she knew she would be too wired to sleep once she got home. Instead of collapsing into bed and waiting for sleep to come, Tara was going to plop herself in front of the TV and get comfy with a pint of Ben & Jerry's until she literally passed out.

Tara tried convincing herself that finally tackling the linen closet like she had promised herself she would two weeks ago was the best way to burn off the excess energy, but who was she kidding? Thirty years of clutter had waited this long to get organized, another day or two would not make a lick of difference because sure as shit, it wasn't getting done tonight.

Besides, Tara's ongoing project of cleaning and packing up her father's house was the only thing, aside from her career, keeping her busy in Charming. No sense being in a hurry to wrap that up, especially since that was the only excuse she had allowed herself for returning in the first place.

_Sometimes, I still can't believe I'm back._

Truth was, when Tara had left Charming ten years ago, she had done so with the intention of never looking back. There was really nothing here for her, anyway, except bad memories of a childhood spent living with a crazy, drunk father.

 _But it wasn't all_ bad, Tara smiled sadly to herself.

Charming had been the backdrop for her epic, albeit tragic, first love. Epic because Tara had been so desperately in love and tragic because, like most things in her life, it wasn't meant to be.

There was no question about it, however. Although Tara never gave leaving Charming in the rear view a second thought, she did regret leaving behind her ex-boyfriend Jackson Teller. He had been the center of her universe since they were both sixteen. Who knows how far that first love passion would have taken them. At nineteen, Tara sure as hell wasn't prepared to find out. The horror inspired by the thought of spending the rest of her life in Charming under the watchful thumb of Jax's mother overshadowed the love she had for him. She had given Jax an ultimatum. Either untie the noose around his neck that was SAMCRO and leave town with her, or forget she ever existed.

Gemma had warned her, vulgarly telling Tara that she was fooling herself if she believed that her pussy held enough sway over her son to make him forget his legacy and abandon the Club. In the fit of rage inspired by such comments, Tara had lost it and overplayed her hand, taking great pleasure in informing the Queen of Charming that it certainly looked that way because she and Jax already had their escape from the incestuous hellhole mapped out.

Needless to say, when Tara left Charming for USC in San Diego, it hadn't been on the back of Jax's beloved bike. Instead, Tara had waited all day and part of the night at a bus terminal in Lodi, hoping that Jax would change his mind. After he had spent most of the night before pleading with her to stay, with tears in his eyes Jax told her if she decided to leave anyway, he wasn't running after her. And true to his word, he hadn't.

In spite of that heartbreak, her life outside Charming had been pretty good. She had gone to college in San Diego after moving in with her mother's cousin. Afterward, Tara went on to graduate from the Feinberg School of Medicine and completed her residency at Chicago Presbyterian. She had all but forgotten about Jax Teller.

That is, until one lapse in judgment screwed her life up royally. Instead of grieving when her cousin got word to her that years of reckless drinking had finally caught up with her father, Tara saw it as a blessing in disguise. It gave her the opportunity and excuse to go back home and start over.

Charming, it seemed, was stuck in a time warp, having not changed at all in the last ten years. It was still the same small and sleepy town and the Sons of Anarchy were still the one and only force to be reckoned with in it. The times she had allowed herself to think about Jax, mostly when she was in the darkest period of her life, Tara often wondered what became of him. A part of her was secretly glad to hear that he was still in town, although not necessarily glad that he was still with the Club.

And married.

Even though it was stupid to expect a man like Jax not to, Tara wasn't sure how she felt about the fact that Jax had moved on and married. He had been such a man whore before they had hooked up that Tara had spent the bulk of her three years with him cat fighting in an effort to keep the skanks hanging around the Clubhouse at bay. Even when Jax had declared that _she_ was his one and only old lady by asking her to get inked with his crow, Tara hadn't been as convinced as his mother thought she was about having Jax wrapped around her finger.

Tara reached behind to lightly caress her lower back. It was still there. She recalled how pissed off she had been when the Queen of Charming had pulled up the back of her scrubs to see if it was still there. Tara had told her that she kept it as a reminder that all of that shit was behind her.

But that had been a lie. Tara had kept it because of what it represented—that the only man who had ever really loved her, would die to protect her, had wanted her enough to put his stamp on her.

She had thought herself special, but her heart had nearly shattered in her chest when Tara had seen the crow tat on Wendy Case's forearm the day Abel had been born.

Tara had mixed feelings about Jax's wife. The woman had obviously been in need of an intervention. Admittedly not knowing shit about the situation, Tara was willing to bet that Wendy had not developed a meth habit while pregnant with Jax's son. The Jax she had known ten years ago prided himself on the respect he had for women and was forever looking to rescue the proverbial damsel in distress. Had he changed so much that he really hadn't given a shit that Wendy had slowly been killing herself as well as their baby?

On the other hand, while she felt sympathy for Wendy, Tara really couldn't understand the attraction. From what Tara could remember, SAMCRO had little tolerance for drug use like meth. The Club had prided itself on keeping Charming drug-free. Had he changed so much that the best Jax could do for himself was settle down with an ex-showgirl from Reno with a serious meth habit as an old lady?

She had to admit to herself, though, that she still cared about Jax Teller enough to ask Dr. Namid if she could assist on his son's case. That connection, however fragile, had allowed Tara to become friends, if that was the correct term, with Jax again, in spite of his interfering mother. Abel Teller was making progress and soon would be allowed out of his incubator, Eventually, he would leave St. Thomas healthy and whole. Not bad for a preemie born with his belly on the outside and a hole in his heart almost as big as his heart itself and tweaking to boot.

 _Maybe this time around things could be different between Jax and—,_ Tara shook her head angrily.

"Get a fuckin' grip on yourself, stupid!" Tara chastised herself under her breath. It was time to stop strolling down memory lane. Her ex was probably no more interested in them picking up where they left off than his mother would be. Not when he has so much on his plate to deal with—a junky ex-wife, ailing child and the recent death of his best friend.

Hefting her handbag onto her shoulder, Tara headed towards the door of the Staff Only locker room.

Pulling the door open, Tara heard herself whimper as she nearly jumped out of her skin, the color draining from her face.

 _Joshua_.

 

*** * * * ***

 

Joshua Kohn stood facing the woman that was the love of his life.

_Finally._

He noted her widened eyes that darted around him towards the vacant hall, her pulse beating rapidly in her neck, and the quick rise and fall of her breasts as she tried to get her breathing under control.

"Hi. Can we talk?"

"What—" Tara swallowed, her mouth feeling suddenly filled with cotton. "What are you doing here?"

The tall, slim man with salt-and-pepper hair had appeared to most persons who had spotted him waiting in the hallway as a somewhat harmless individual. "I just wanted to give you a heads up that I'm in town. On ATF business."

"What business?" Tara blinked, trying to clear the blur caused by her unshed tears.

"It's an interstate weapons case." Kohn sighed dramatically. "I really shouldn't be telling you this. It originated in South Chicago. Big arms deal. Led back here. The Sons of Anarchy are involved." He intoned solemnly. "And I don't want to see you get hurt, Tara, not by that guy."

 _He knows about Jax._ "I'm not with him." Tara denied shakily.

Kohn smiled. "Everyone knows that first love dies hard."

Tara managed to get her fear under control. "That restraining order is still in effect. You come near my house or come to my work again and I will file—"

"Okay, okay." Kohn chuckled lightly as he shook his head. "Actually, my federal jurisdiction takes precedence over state mandates, but I understand how you feel. And I promise, no more contact, but you should really know the kind of man you're dealing with."

Tara flinched as Kohn reached behind him to pull out an envelope from the waist band of his slacks and held it out to her. "Go on, take it."

Snatching it out of his hands, Tara eyed it.

Walking down the hall, Kohn turned back to face her. "It's been good talking to you. I miss that."

As he disappeared around the corner, Tara sagged against the wall, the hand holding the envelope dropping to her side. Taking a couple of minutes to recover from what she believed had been her worst nightmare come to life, she finally turned her attention to the envelope.

Ripping it open, Tara pulled out what appeared to be a handful of grainy black and white surveillance photos.

"Sick fuckin' bastard!" She whispered hoarsely. Shoving the pictures into her bag, Tara headed towards the staff only exit and her car as fast as she could.

 

*** * * * ***

 

Kohn swung his car keys around his index finger, whistling jauntily under his breath as he headed out to his sedan in the hospital parking lot.

"After a long separation, I think that went rather well for a first meeting." He smiled to himself as he opened the driver's-side door.

It had been difficult keeping a low profile in a small town like Charming for the last couple of months while Tara got settled. It had been an exercise in patience keeping himself from showing his hand too soon, afraid that she would flee once again if he showed up on her doorstep right away. It had been hard enough tracking her back to the backwater town she had come from. Who knew where Tara would take off to next if she felt cornered. She had little to no family left alive that she was close to.

At 45, 6'3, and slim-hipped, Joshua Kohn knew that he was not a bad looking man. In fact, he knew he was quite a catch for the right woman. He also knew that, in spite of the fifteen-year age difference between them, Tara Knowles had been attracted to him because his looks and age inspired a sense of safety and comfort in his arms. She wanted—needed—someone to take care of her, look after her. It was obvious from the Intel he managed to get on her family life that her father had sadly lacked parental instincts and had failed to shelter her as a child.

And Tara needed sheltering.

But it was obvious that she didn't know that. It was her naiveté and inexperience that allowed her to get involved with a dirty biker while still just a teenager. Thanks to her father's failures, while looking for someone to take care of her, Tara had been easy pickings for types like Jax Teller. And once again, after leaving Chicago, as a grown and accomplished woman, she had run right back to Charming and into his arms once again.

But that piece of shit, although young and good-looking, didn't know how to love a woman like Tara. Kohn knew the Jax Tellers of the world all too well, especially in his line of work. Teller was too busy fucking everything with two sets of lips and running an infamous criminal empire to appreciate a woman like Tara.

He, on the other hand, Kohn lamented, had obviously loved her too much. Tara wasn't used to his overwhelming passion for her. But now that he was here in Charming, he would be able to make her see reason again.

 _The restraining order won't be a problem._ The one thing he knew about Tara was that she hated people in her personal business. It was more than likely that she would believe his lie about federal jurisdictional overriding the restraining order that she had gotten back in Chicago.

Had he been in the right frame of mind, however, Kohn would realize just what a gamble he was taking, not only with his career but with his life, in underestimating the fear he inspired in Tara. If she knew the lengths to which he had gone to in order to end up in the same town as her once again, personal privacy be damned, Tara would seek someone to protect her. She had in Chicago, finally, after making several attempts, found a precinct willing to give her a restraining order. Lucky Kohn had kissed the Blarney Stone on a family trip to Ireland when he was a child. He had been able to talk himself out of the trouble with his superiors when they learned of the restraining order.

Promising to get help, Kohn had taken a leave of absence from work. But instead of seeing a therapist, he had spent the last two months shadowing the Sons of Anarchy and had accumulated a substantial amount of information on their Club and operations. Showing up in Charming, Kohn had introduced himself to Deputy Chief David Hale who had been more than happy to provide him with as much information as he had on the Sons.

So when Agent June Stahl from the ATF's Stockton Division and her team showed up in Charming, Kohn had quickly introduced himself to her and had been pleased to render what assistance he could in her pursuit by providing pictures of the incident in Indian Hills and the transfer of the oil barrels to Reno for a start which gave life to Stahl's investigation.

Kohn had quickly realized that Agent Stahl was a real live wire, capable of just about anything to accomplish her job, including using federal funds to frame one of the Club's members in a ploy to bring down the Sons. He could have told her that she was setting herself up for failure, but decided instead to let the brash and overzealous agent shoot herself in the foot. When her efforts to trap the Sons resulted in the death of Harry "Opie" Winston, the Club member who Stahl had set up as a rat, Kohn saw the window of opportunity he had been waiting for to open.

Going directly to her superior in Stockton, Kohn "reluctantly" exposed Stahl's efforts to deliberately set up an innocent man as a rat, knowing only too well what his own Club would do to him. Unfortunately, her ploy had worked and it did very little to advance her case, but she had known all along that it wouldn't. Her main objective in setting Winston up as a rat had been pure and simple vengeance against the MC for the beating and broken nose she received courtesy of former SAMCRO member and present inmate at Stockton prison, Big Otto Delaney.

Kohn had been very persuasive, sharing his deep concerns about the nefarious tactics employed by Agent Stahl, pointing out that Donna Winston, wife of the deceased, had been present when her husband had been gunned down and could have ended up as collateral damage. Had the truly innocent woman been shot and killed, Stahl conceivable would have been responsible for the deaths of two innocents, leaving two children without their parents.

Just like he had planned, his scheme had worked and Stahl was immediately pulled off of the RIRA-NorCal threat. When Kohn made it clear that it was _his_ surveillance of the Club and the information that he gathered regarding how the guns were being shipped into the country, Stahl's supervisors asked if he would consider transferring to the Stockton office in order to assist them on the RIRA-NorCal case.

At first, Kohn acted bashful and meek, reluctant to leave behind the life he had in Chicago, but eventually "caved" out of duty to his country. As a result, he was now the lead agent on the investigation into the motorcycle club known as the Sons of Anarchy.

Kohn had no intention to make this transfer a permanent move. He was determined to return to Chicago, but not before doing whatever it took to destroy Jax Teller and SAMCRO. Maybe then Tara would see the error of her ways and return home.

And to him.


	4. Vengeance is Mine

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy.**

 

*** * * * ***

 

Making his way to Abel's private room in the St. Thomas NICU, Jax turned the corner sharply and found himself slamming into another person.

"Ow, damn it! Watch where you're going, moron." Wendy mumbled under her breath as she bounced off his hard chest.

"Sorry, darlin', but that works both ways, you know."

Startled, Wendy looked up and was hit by a pair of smiling and brilliant blue eyes. She felt her knees weaken.

 _Oh shit_ , she moaned to herself. _The one person I want to impress and I call him a moron_.

Red-faced with embarrassment, Wendy nervously ran her hand through her honey-colored highlights, just knowing she was going to stutter the second she opened her mouth. "I—I'm sorry, Jax. I—I didn't mean that."

Jax grinned down at his ex. "It's okay, darlin'. I'm sure you didn't since you seemed to be in a mad rush. Where's the fire?"

"Yeah, I need to get to a phone. My cell—cheap piece of shit—died and I have to give my counselor at Lincoln Village notice that I'm gonna be late getting back today." Wendy lowered her head and, with a small clenched fist, growled in frustration. "I gotta check in and out all the time and it's a real bitch."

Digging into his kutte, Jax pulled out his pre-pay. "Here, use mine."

Smiling her thanks, Wendy quickly dialed the number and spoke with the sour-faced woman she reported to multiple times a day on a daily basis. Finishing her call, she handed the phone back. "Thanks, Jax. Bailey's really strict and would have revoked my privileges if I hadn't called in."

Jax propped himself against the wall. "We can't have that, not when it looks like all this shit is agreeing with you. You look real good, Wendy." He complimented, and meant it. She looked amazing.

Wendy couldn't keep herself from beaming up at him. _He said I looked good! REAL good!_

She had been making the extra effort to look put together each time she came to the hospital, just on the off chance she would run into her soon-to-be ex-husband. It seems to have paid off. Wendy was wearing dark-wash boot-cut jeans and black boots paired with a billowy blouse to accent her best assets. The scoop neck of the fuchsia-colored blouse moderately displayed her generous C-cup breasts, which were framed perfectly by the cascade of long and wavy blonde-streaked hair draped over both shoulders. Wendy had applied her make up with a much lighter hand than usual, considerably toning down the effects of a life spent partying hard. The experiment had paid off and she actually managed to look young and fresh.

 _Gemma was right. I need to dress for the job I want, not the job I've got_. Looking like a junky croweater instead of an old lady was not going to help Wendy reclaim her life. Besides, those days were behind her now.

At 34, Wendy was determined to get her life back. The life Jax had offered her not once by marrying her, but twice by attempting reconciliation. She had squandered both opportunities, but Wendy was a junky and at the time she had not been ready to get clean and stay that way. Now, with her baby Abel improving everyday, she had every reason in the world to get off drugs, but she wanted someone to share her life and sobriety with. She wanted her husband back.

She was quickly learning that the Queen of Charming was not one to make empty promises. Wendy had been surprised—and admittedly, a little nervous—when Gemma had offered to take her under her wing and mold her into a proper old lady and mother for her son and grandson.

The woman had taken her to San Leandro to shop for a new wardrobe, including shoes and accessories. After Gemma's personal hair stylist gave Wendy's tired roots and brassy color a new lift along with several extensions, a manicurist got rid of her tacky acrylics in lieu of a French manicure on her shorter, natural nails, while some poor woman went to work on what Gemma called her "crocodile feet." The whole experience could have been humiliating, but instead had done a lot to boost Wendy's self-esteem. Now, seeing the warm smile on Jax's face to go along with the appreciative look in his beautiful eyes had her hoping that maybe, just maybe, she could turn her life around.

Wendy shrugged her shoulders sheepishly. "I'm trying to do my best. I really want to turn my shit around this time, you know?"

"Absolutely, darlin'. You keep doing this good, there's no telling what the future holds in store for you."

_I know. Hopefully, it's you._

Clearing her throat, Wendy gestured with her thumb over her shoulder. "You were on your way to see Abel?"

"Yeah, I need to see him. I got some shit I have to deal with later and spending time with him always gets me centered." Jax replied.

"Come, I'll go with you." Wendy offered.

The two made a somewhat attractive pair as they walked down the hall heading to Abel's room. Noticing the looks they were getting, Wendy could almost feel eyes bouncing off of Jax to her and back to Jax again. In spite of SAMCRO's outlaw reputation, the female staff at St. Thomas couldn't resist checking out the hot young biker with the easy smile at her side. They were all but drooling and sighing as the sexy outlaw swaggered past them, especially as most had witnessed first hand how much he obviously loved and cared for his son. A man like that who doted on his sick baby couldn't be all that bad, could he?

 _They're probably wondering what he's still doing with the almost-baby killer_ , Wendy thought bitterly, knowing she had no one to blame but herself.

Entering Abel's room, Jax sat down in the chair beside the incubator. With a slight smile curling his lips, he stared at his son, who was quietly sleeping. "He's looking good, huh?" He whispered.

"Yeah, he is." Wendy moistened her lips. "No thanks to me."

"Hey," Jax reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear before gently cupping her cheek. "What happened to Abel is not your fault."

Wendy snorted. "Oh, yeah, I was powerless." She said sarcastically. "Jax, that bullshit excuse is even getting old to _me_."

"It's not that." Jax sighed. "Us—getting back together—I knew it would go bad. I didn't _want_ to be married. No way was I ready for a kid. When you got pregnant, I hated you. I hated that you had given him a name, so I bailed—on you and on him. Him born tweaking and his belly hanging out—that's on me, babe."

Wendy sniffed, trying to hold back her tears. _This man is too good for me._

After thumbing away the lone tear to escape down her cheek, Jax gave her a soft smile before turning his attention back to Abel. After 90 seconds of deafening silence, Wendy willed herself to speak up.

"I think we should talk, Jax."

"About what?" He was looking at her again.

"Well," Wendy hesitated. It was probably not the right time to bring this up. Gemma didn't know that she had already slept with Jax, Wendy having decided that was something she was keeping for herself, but hearing Jax voice his feelings about how he had felt about them getting back together a year ago scared her. She needed to lock him down, keep their connection close if she was to have any chance of repairing the damage she had caused in order for them to become a family. So she dove head first. "About what happened the night Opie died—" She started.

Jax rubbed his ringed hand across his goatee. "It was a hard night, Wendy." His voice rasped, tinged with grief.

"Yeah, it was. But Jax," Wendy crouched down beside him and gestured to their son lying in his incubator. "God, I want this."

"He's your son. You have him." Jax assured her. In spite of what his own mother said, his son needed his mother.

"Not just him." Wendy looked up at the man who still held her heart in his hands.

"We've had our dance, Wendy." Jax started.

Wendy tentatively placed her hand over his as it rested on his knee. "But never like this. Not with him. It could be different this time."

"We've been through way too much shit." Jax tried to reason with her.

"I just want another chance. This little guy at least deserves that, you know?"

Jax ran his free hand through his hair. On some level, Jax knew that Wendy was right. His son had not asked to be born and he deserved to be part of a loving family which included both a mother and father. However, he couldn't help but recall what a disaster their attempted reconciliation had been. Besides, with so much weighing him down—losing Opie, finding his killer and avenging his murder, and the promise he had made to his best friend to be there for Donna and the kids—he was sure he wasn't in the right frame of mind to try and repair a fractured relationship. But seeing the hope in her big, beautiful eyes reminded Jax that, in spite of how it had turned out, there had been something there once that might be worth exploring again, even if just for the sake of their son.

Hoping he wouldn't live to regret the next words out of his mouth, Jax relented. "Put together some time, a'ight? We'll see where it goes, but I can't promise anything."

Wendy gave him a brilliant smile. "Okay, I will. I'm going to make this work, Jax. Okay?"

Jax nodded. Hearing a slight whimper, he looked away from Wendy to see a little fist waving in the air. "Hey, look who's up." Reaching over, Jax picked up a book that Gemma had left on the table. Patting his lap, he eyed Wendy. "C'mon."

"Huh?" Wendy was thunderstruck.

Jax patted his leg again. "Sit down, darlin'. Read to Little Man for a little bit."

Swallowing hard, Wendy sat down on Jax's left leg, gently curling one arm around his neck for support. With each of them holding one end of the open book, she began reading. Stumbling over some of the words in her nervousness, the two of them laughed together.

Standing outside the window looking into Abel's room, Tara looked at the couple pensively. Her brow furrowed as she observed the comfortableness between them as they took turns reading out loud to their son.

Standing behind her, partially hidden by the doorway leading to another corridor, Gemma silently watched the little triangle. Smiling ever so slightly to herself, she quietly backed away and disappeared out of sight.

 

*** * * * ***

 

As a church bell rang in the distance, several little girls in school uniforms ran down the reasonably quiet street in Hayward, a small city in Alameda County, and past a group of men hanging on the corner. The occupants in a gray pickup truck parked across the street watched as the one wearing a Mayan kutte clapped hands with several passers-by as they covertly exchanged small packets of drugs for cash.

Looking at the mug shot on the copy of the rap sheet provided by Trammel, Jax nodded grimly as he looked at Tig who was sitting in the passenger seat. "That's him. Elian Perez. Got out of Corcoran three months ago. Manslaughter, plus a Chinese menu of assault and drug charges."

Suddenly, Chibs and Juice pulled up next to them in the black cargo van used by the Club for plainclothes ops. "How do you want to do this, brutha?" Chibs asked.

"Too many eyes here." Juice chimed in.

Seeing Perez gun the motor on his bike and pull off, Jax turned on the engine. "He's on the move." Quickly he pulled away from the curb in pursuit with the cargo van following behind him.

Sensing he was being followed, their target pealed down several streets in an attempt to lose both vehicles in hot pursuit. Shouting for Tig to take the wheel, Jax climbed out the cab window and onto the bed of the pickup as Tig slid into the driver's seat.

Picking up a long lead pipe, Jax shouted to Tig through the window. "Yo, pull up on his left."

As Tig sped up, coming up along side the Mayan, Jax used the pipe like a javelin and jammed it through the spokes of the back wheel of the Mayan's ride, causing it to flip on its side and shedding its rider.

Although caught unexpectedly, Perez moved quickly, rolling up into a standing position and ran away down an alley. Pulling his gun, he managed to squeeze off several shots aimed at Jax and Tig, who had ditched the truck and were now bearing down on him on foot.

Yelling and motioning for Chibs to take the van around the back, Jax and Tig continued their heated pursuit through mostly deserted side streets and back alleys.

Firing a succession of shots, the Mayan still had the lead on them and a fair bit of luck. As he rounded the corner, a large white truck was pulling out, heading away from his pursuers. Frantically grabbing for the bar on the side at the rear of the truck, he swung himself up and continued firing.

Laughing hysterically, thinking he was home free, Perez hadn't noticed the cargo van as it swung around the back. Unfortunately, it was facing the Mayan's escape vehicle head on. Barely staying in control, Chibs managed to direct the path of the van so that it knocked Perez off of the truck as it unknowingly continued on its way.

Giving him the opening he needed, Jax leapt through the air and landed on the man, throwing several punches before pulling the Mayan onto his wobbly feet and shoving him towards the cargo van.

 

*** * * * ***

 

Pulling into what looked like an abandoned industrial site, the two vehicles came to a stop. Sliding the cargo van's door open, Perez was dragged out of the back, his arms and mouth secured with duct tape.

Throwing him down on the ground against the wall of a building, Jax ripped the tape off his mouth.

"Tell me you did it!" Squatting in front of the man, Jax grabbed him by his kutte and growled into his face.

The Mayan looked at him as if he was bat shit crazy. "Did what?" He sputtered.

Cocking his Glock, Jax jammed it against the man's temple. "Tell me you killed my brother." As he looked up into the eyes of the stone cold killer, the man felt an icy cold trickle of fear run down his back.

"What the hell you talkin' about?!" The Mayan stammered.

Standing over their brother, Chibs and Juice watched in grim silence and raised eyebrows as Jax continued to question the man. However, Tig watched with a growing sense of anxiety.

"Tell me you came to Charming, pulled up behind him, and unloaded an entire clip into the back of his head in front of his wife! Do it!" Jax yelled.

"No, no!" Perez yelled. "I swear, I didn't kill your man. You got the wrong dude, homes. I swear, it wasn't me!" He protested vociferously.

"Jax!" Chibs reached over and grabbed the younger man by his hoodie and pulled him away from the Mayan, dragging him off around the corner of the building.

Tig looked at Juice and nudged his head. "Go with him. Go on. I got him."

Juice nodded and bopped along after the two men.

Perez continued to voice his innocence. "This wasn't the Mayans, man. This is not our shit, I swear. We don't have no beef with SAMCRO." Stalking towards him, Tig pulled a large hunting knife out of its sheath.

Meanwhile, placing both his hands on his brother's shoulders, Chibs shook Jax slightly. "What are you doing, brutha?"

"I'm not leaving here with any doubts. I need to know, without question, that he's the piece of shit who did Ope." Jax declared.

"Jackie Boy, the longer this takes, the more risk we're all in. Brutha, just do 'em and let's get the hell out of here." Chibs reasoned.

"He's right, Jax." Juice said.

Jax shook his head, his jaw set. "You guys can go. I gotta do this my way."

Giving him a long look, Chibs sighed and then nodded.

Tig was starting to panic. From the sound of it, his brothers were on their way back. Meanwhile, the fucking patsy Trammel had framed for the murder wouldn't shut his damn mouth.

Pulling his piece from his holster, Perez panicked even more as he heard Tig cock his gun and put it to his cheek.

"What are you doing, man?" He screamed. Quickly piecing together Tig's strange behavior and coming to the conclusion that there was something more going on, Perez tried pleading for his life again. "What's going on, man? Look, I swear, I won't say anything. I won't."

Pretty much sealing his own fate with his last statement, being left with no other choice, Tig fired his gun into the man's face. The bullet entered his right cheek, exiting out the left, taking with it a part of his tongue and several teeth, as the Mayan screamed in agony.

Rushing up to the scene, Tig shrugged his shoulders at Jax. "Guy broke loose, tried to reach for my gun, man. I had to blow him up. I'm sorry, Jax."

Holding his gun in his hand, watching the man writhe in a bloody heap on the ground, Jax glared at the POS who had robbed Opie of his life and his family of a loving husband and father. And yet, he hesitated.

Tig clapped a hand on his shoulder. "No doubt, Jax. This guy killed Ope."

The shot, piercing the Mayan's heart point blank, was quick, almost done without feeling, completely devoid of emotion and with absolutely no mercy as Jax lowered his hand to his side. Falling to knees, his brothers watched as Jax ripped open the dead man's kutte and shirt. Pulling out his KA-BAR, Jax viciously carved the letter "A", the mark of the Sons of Anarchy, into the man's chest.

"So Alvarez knows who _and_ why." Jax muttered mostly to himself.

Tig nodded as he watched the young man get up off the ground. "Get rid of those guns. You guys take the truck and head back. I'll dump the body."

"You're dumping him on Mayan turf. You can't do that on your own." Jax reasoned.

"This is my job. It's what I do. You're the VP and you need to be there when the Feds drop Bobby off. I got this, brother." Tig replied.

Nodding, Jax took one more look at the dead man lying on the ground before he turned. Giving Tig the standard bro hug, he headed towards the pickup, with Chibs and Juice following in his wake.

 

*** * * * ***

 

Waiting until the pickup had pulled out of sight, Tig sighed and rubbed his forehead trying to dispel the stress headache that was threatening to turn into a migraine. The situation had almost gotten away from him, but he managed to pull his shit together. Now, all he needed to do was to wrap things up as Clay had directed.

Heading back to the cargo van, Tig retrieved a large plastic sheet and arranged the dead man on top. Pulling out his Glock, Tig took careful aim and shot several times into the man's torso, completely obliterating the "A" identifying it as an SOA kill.

_This poor sap is gonna to kill two birds with one fuckin' stone._

 

*** * * * ***

 

The T-M lot was swarming with patches and hang-arounds alike with a healthy number of scantily-clad croweaters and strippers providing the entertainment. The party to welcome Bobby Elvis home was in full swing. When night fell, a number of fire pits in metal trash cans had been set up around the lot to provide the perfect lighting for a SAMCRO party. The barbecue was blazing, cranking out porterhouse steaks, and loud music was blaring, cranking out Classic Rock, with liquor, weed and pussy in abundance and up for grabs.

The only one not really in a party mood was the VP of the mother charter.

Having managed to brush off the SAMCRO Pussy Brigade, Jax sat on his bike with a bottle of Jack in his hand. Although he watched the festivities with a vague eye, the events of that afternoon were first and foremost on his mind. While part of him felt a measure of satisfaction that the man that had killed his friend was dead, another part of him felt a sense of unease.

In his time in the Club, there had been a number of occasions where he had to get bloody on behalf of the Club. After all, he had earned the Men of Mayhem patch on his kutte. Most of the kills that had earned him that patch had been in the defense of his brothers' lives, but this was the first time where he had deliberately taken the life of another man. Having hoped that the act of vengeance would bring him a measure of peace, Jax was finding it difficult to reconcile himself with the fact that he had taken a life in cold blood.

Realizing that no amount of second-guessing or analysis would allow his mind to wrap the events of earlier in the day into a neat little acceptable package, Jax perked up as he saw a black sedan pull into the lot. As the crowd of well-wishers gathered around the vehicle as it pulled to a stop, Jax watched a tall, thin man with dark hair shot with gray exit the passenger side of the car. Even from that distance, he could read his body language. Jax bristled as he noted the barely controlled disgust rolling off the self-righteous Fed in waves as he coldly observed the loud and rowdy party currently exploding into a fever pitch around him. Going around to the other side, the man opened the door to reveal a shaggy-haired Bobby Munson.

As the crowd roared its approval and cheered, Jax watched as the man exchanged several words with Clay before getting back into the sedan before it pulled out of the lot. Hopping off of his bike, Jax went to make his way through the crowd to welcome home his brother.

 

*** * * * ***

 

Having missed Bobby's arrival by about an hour, Tig slapped his hand on the back of his President's kutte, and sat down on the picnic bench beside him. "It's done. I made the drop in Hayward, but I had to wait until it got dark."

"So we're good?" Clay asked.

His SAA sighed. "Yeah, I think so. Things got a bit complicated, though."

Clay raised his eyebrows. "Do I want to know?"

Tig shrugged. "Not really. I cleaned it up."

Clay nodded at Jax in the distance, who still had his arm wrapped around Bobby's shoulders as they shared a bottle of Jack. "Think this moves him past it?"

"I don't know, man. He's working some serious shit out." Tig responded.

"Well, it better. The Club needs to move on from this. Hopefully, the influx of some more business will get everyone's mind off of it."

"Brother, if your plan goes off without a hitch, we should be getting a new order from Laroy as soon as that beaner's found. That was a good play, tagging that Mayan as a Niner kill."

"Yeah, it certainly will serve its purpose. We avenge Opie's death, keep the blow back from taking down the Club _and_ create a war between black and brown. That should keep Alvarez too busy trying to dodge Laroy's bullets and keep him from coming after us for our gun deal going south."

"And when Jax finds out that I shifted the blame to the Niners for the kill?"

Clay shrugged his large frame. "I'll take the heat. It was my call to make. We'll say we did it for the good of the Club. That by tagging the kill as ours, Jax wasn't thinking rationally. Besides, by the time he finds out, we'll probably be loaded down with orders from Laroy and everybody at the table will back that it had been the best play." Clay lit up a cigar. "I've been running this shit for a long time. Nobody will disagree with the call when the cash starts flowing again."

"Prolly not." Tig agreed.

 

*** * * * ***

 

Donna shuffled cautiously to the front door, her small feet encased in the pink fluffy elephant slippers her kids had bought her for Mother's Day, barely making a sound on the hardwood floor. Not much of a sleeper lately, Donna was completely awake when the banging on the door started. Donna had no clue as to who would be making such a racket at 1:00 in the morning, but she wasn't taking any chances.

Flipping on the porch light by the door and holding the steel bat in her right hand, the petite woman peeked through the blinds of the living room window facing the front door. With an amused, but exasperated sigh of relief, Donna recognized her late night visitor.

As the banging continued, Donna quickly morphed into supremely pissed and stomped towards the front door and flung it open. "Do you want to tell me why the hell you're banging on my door in the middle of the fuckin' night?" She whispered loudly.

Eyeing the clearly annoyed woman through bleary eyes, Jax noted the battle-ready pixie standing in her doorway, wearing nothing but a camisole and a pair of shorts with one hand on her cocked hip and the other gripping Opie's bat.

"You gonna hit me with that or is the plan to stomp me to death with your fuzzy pink slippers?" He whispered right back.

"I ought to do both." Donna retorted. She rolled her eyes as, without waiting for an invitation, Jax stepped through her doorway, causing her to back away from him as he closed the door behind him. "Uh, did I invite you in?" She whispered.

But as he turned around to face her, Donna's anger quickly cooled and turned to worry as she got a good look at him. It was obvious that he was not in the best of shape. Judging from the stench of liquor mixing with the smell of weed wafting off of him, it would be easy to assume that his current condition was the result of partying too hard. But the loss and confusion in his bloodshot blue eyes made it clear that Jax was self-medicating to ease his pain. What she saw in his eyes had her worried for her husband's best friend, _her_ best friend. She wouldn't be able to withstand another loss. Not by a long shot.

Jax ran a hand through his messy hair. "Why are we whispering?"

"Because I don't want to wake up the kids. They'll probably be out here in a minute after all that banging."

As silence permeated the room, Jax grinned. "Are you sure they're home 'cause I don't think they're coming."

Resting the bat in the corner by the door, Donna crossed her arms. "Forget my kids. They have nothing to do with why you've shown up at my door tonight."

Jax sighed. "Actually, they do."

Donna frowned as she reached up to place a hand on his arm. "What is it, Jax? Are they in danger?"

Placing a large hand over hers, Jax bent over and kissed her on the forehead. "No, darlin', they're fine. And safe." He took a deep breath. "Shit, now I don't even know why I'm here. I'm sure what I have to say could've waited, but I needed to see you and tell you now."

"What is it, Jax? You're scaring me."

"No, no, it's not like that." Jax shook his head, causing himself to stagger back a step. "I just needed to tell you, what we talked about the last time I was here—it's done."

As her eyes widened, Donna trembled at the darkness she saw reflected in Jax's eyes in the dim lighting of the foyer. In them, she could see his struggle to deal with a mix of emotions, none speaking to her heart more than the strange sadness. Realizing that the tough outlaw biker was hurting, she reached out with both arms and found herself wrapped in his embrace.

Hugging him close to her, a part of Donna found it interesting just how snuggly her small frame fit against his, the top of her head resting just underneath his chin. Unbidden tears slipped down her cheeks as she realized that the man responsible for taking her husband away from his family had finally paid the price with his life.

Reluctantly letting her go, Jax watched as Donna wiped the tears from her face with trembling fingers. "It wasn't easy, was it?" She asked, looking at him with concern in her eyes.

It suddenly overwhelmed Jax knowing that someone who had lost so much so recently could still empathize with his own feelings of guilt after taking a human life. "No. It wasn't. It was a lot harder than I thought it would be. Today, I killed a man to avenge my brother. I've never done anything like that before and it's a little hard to absorb, really." Jax explained as he shook his head. "I'm sorry. I know you didn't want to be a part of this, but I really wanted—needed—to talk to someone. With Piney at the cabin—"

"That left me." She concluded.

"Honestly? You were my first choice. I needed to see you, but I didn't want you to hate me for what I did." He sounded defeated.

"I could _never_ hate you, Jax." Donna started adamantly. Taking his hand in hers, Donna squeezed it reassuringly. "I may not like what you did, putting yourself in danger like that, but at least you did something. I haven't heard shit from anyone at Charming PD or the Sanwa Sherriff's Department about the investigation. It's almost like the fact that Opie was an ex-con puts him way down on their list of priorities. Finding out who killed my husband means nothing to them, not when Mrs. Franklin's prize-winning azaleas keep getting vandalized or there are rowdy teens hanging out in the Circle S parking lot. But Opie meant something to you. YOU embody the meaning of brotherhood and that was the one thing Opie loved most about the Club and you. YOU were his true brother and one day, when my children are old enough to understand, I can tell them that their father did get a measure of justice. Please don't ever be ashamed of the part you played in that."

Donna's words were like a salve to Jax's wounded spirit, but the emotion was too deep for him to express. All he could do was nod his head. "Well, I better get back to the Clubhouse." Bringing her small hand to his lips, Jax pressed a gentle kiss on it.

Watching him take a wobbly step, Donna realized there was no way she could allow him back on his bike in that condition. It was a miracle he had managed to make it to her house in one piece.

"Oh, no you don't, big fella." Wrapping an arm around his waist, she directed Jax towards the side of the house. "You're coming with me." She ordered.

"Well, darlin'," Jax smirked. Feeling the relief of confessing his sins to his best friend's wife and being comforted had quickly gone a long way in easing his troubled mind. Now the drunk, flirty, and outrageously sexy outlaw was back with a vengeance. Leering down at her, Jax wriggled his eyebrows. "I didn't know you cared."

"Great. Just what I need right now, a hot, but crazy, idiotic, and drunk as hell biker showing up on my doorstep in the middle of the night." Donna said, and quickly shook all thoughts that maybe that's exactly what she needed right now out of her mind.

"You think I'm hot?" Jax grinned, managing to pick up on the one flattering comment. "See, I knew ya liked me."

_Please God, keep me from killing him because I sure as hell cannot bury his ass in the backyard by myself._

Finally managing to get Jax down the hall, past the kids' rooms, Donna threw open the door to what had formerly been a side porch. Opie had managed to convert the porch into a tiny bedroom of sorts, so that Piney would have a place to crash when he felt he needed to keep an eye on his old man.

The room was cozy and managed to hold a full-size bed, a small dresser, and a night stand with a lamp. Donna had made it rather homey, adding little feminine touches, including bright and cheery yellow paint on the walls, several pictures of the natural beauty of Northern California, a small area rug and a pair of dark navy curtains on the window that ran the length of the right side of the room.

In spite of her small frame, Donna was a strong woman. Pushing Jax into the room, she managed to shove him onto the bed. Bending down, Donna worked to remove first his sneakers and then, getting him to sit up, stripped him of his kutte.

"Damn, you sure work fast, Don. Did you smack Opie around like this?" Jax marveled at how quickly he had gone from fully dressed to almost half-naked as he sat on the bed.

"If you're not gonna help, then shut up." Donna commanded. "And yeah, it was a real joy undressing his drunk ass every time he came home from the Club after hanging out with you, asshole." Struggling with the last of his layers, Donna finally yanked the white t-shirt off of the very uncoordinated biker, pulling it over his head and turning to drop it on the dresser along with the rest. Turning to face him again, Donna was just not prepared for the shock of her life.

Jax's hard and muscled chest gleamed in the dim light of the room. Except for the tattoo of his son's name, his chest was smooth and unmarred, his six-pack serving as a backdrop for the wispy blond hair of his happy trail leading down to parts unknown beneath his "SAMCRO" belt-buckle.

_Holy shit, that is truly one fine specimen of maleness. Too bad he knows it, too._

Donna managed to swallow the sudden lump in her throat, hoping that he was too drunk to notice her admiring the view.

He wasn't.

"Like what you see?"

Refusing to turn red with embarrassment at being caught gawking like some unschooled teenager, Donna gave back as good as she got. "What am I, dead? Don't get too full of yourself, though. I was simply appraising you as a _friend_ would." She smiled as she saw him wince.

"Aw, that hurts, Don." Jax groaned. "I can't believe you just cock-blocked me by using the F-word."

Unable to keep herself from blushing a second time, Donna quickly recovered. "Believe it, outlaw. We are BFFs." Donna walked the short distance to the door, and turned back to grin at him. "Now let your drunk ass pass out, but not on your back. I'll leave some fresh towels for you so you can shower in the morning." She wrinkled her nose. "You gonna need it."

"Thanks, darlin'."

Throwing himself back onto the bed, which was extremely comfortable, and curling onto his side, Jackson Teller got what was probably the best night's sleep of his life since Opie Winston had passed away.

 

*** * * * ***

 

Suddenly sitting up in the middle of her king size bed, Donna found that she was still wide awake. Having slipped into Opie's large SAMCRO t-shirt, which still held his scent, Donna had settled herself into the bed she had shared with her husband, but simply couldn't go back to sleep.

The young woman, barely thirty years old, couldn't turn off the noise in her head. Nights were always the worst part of her day. At least during daylight hours she could stay busy and focused long enough to forget that she was a widow. During the day, life felt as normal as it did when Opie was in lock up. The long nights in her half-empty bed, however, were a painful reminder of the cruel reality of her life. She wasn't waiting for her husband to come back home from Chino anymore. Even though she was as lonely as she had been during those long five years, now there would be no end in sight. No date to circle on the calendar as she looked forward to a fresh new start and the end of her loneliness.

Five years of waiting for Opie to come home, only to have him snatched away merely two months after getting out, just served to prove how fragile life really was. Although she would forever love him, Donna was done living her life on the side-lines. With the only remaining loose end keeping her in Charming finally tied off, Donna promised herself to seriously start planning her move. A change of scenery and a fresh start was what she needed and, since it was becoming quite clear that her lady bits were still in working condition, Donna resolved to let herself fall in love again someday. Only this time with someone safe, living a normal and boring life.

Throwing herself back onto her pillow, Donna squirmed a little under the comforter as she thought about her reaction to the handsome outlaw biker down the hall. She prayed for Jax to forget how she had gawked at him, like she was a hair-trigger away from jumping his bones. What hot-blooded woman wouldn't react in such a way when confronted so in your face with such a fine looking man?

_After all, I didn't bury the woman inside and her needs when I buried my husband._

But as hot and bothered as she felt at the moment, Donna was pretty sure that it was just a symptom of her loneliness. She missed her Opie, but at least, now in the safety of her own bed, just knowing that Jax was sleeping down the hall, she let herself feel a small measure of comfort that she wasn't completely alone in the universe.

Truth was, Donna felt she would forever be connected to Jax Teller. He was honorable and loyal and a man of his word. As he had promised her, Jax had taken care of Opie's killer. Getting drunk on a night like tonight was totally understandable and Donna could understand the sincere relief she could see on Jax's face. His eyes, however, spoke volumes to her. There was still a sadness there, which was completely understandable as well. After all, no amount of bloodshed would ever bring his best friend back. No, what she saw in those blue depths was more than sadness. It was something a little more complex and had she not known Jax Teller so well, she probably would have never noticed it. Never one to suffer from self-doubt, the look of unsurety was out of place in terms of the outlaw biker.

Although he had not gone into explicit detail about her husband's murderer finally getting his just desserts, Donna wondered who the man had been. Had it been one of Opie's own brothers? Is that why Jax seemed so lost and forlorn? Granted, it had been years, since before her children had been born actually, that Donna had last attended a party at the Clubhouse. Thinking back to the few times that she had, however, Donna couldn't remember having ever seen Jax so completely and utterly wasted.

Donna rubbed her face with both hands as she tried to clear such thoughts from her mind. Opie loved the Club. His father was a founding member. In spite of the promises he had made to her upon his release from Chino, Opie's dedication to the brotherhood was something he couldn't deny. But remembering her family's short stay at the Federal Holding Facility in Stockton, it was clear that Agent Stahl was setting the stage to make it look like Opie had turned on his Club. Even weeks after Opie's death, Donna was still getting "paid-in-full" statements from creditors who as recently as last month had been threatening legal action for non-payment of their debts.

The knowledge that Opie's killer was dead and that Jax had been the one to kill him should have put her mind at peace, but not knowing the details left more questions for her than answers. Donna needed to know, but how could she broach the subject with Jax regarding her suspicions about her husband's death without putting herself in the Club's cross hairs?

Rolling over onto her side, Donna felt sleep finally taking a hold of her tired mind. Morning would come soon enough. Since she wasn't expecting to see her mother at all, there was no reason to worry about getting rid of her sexy overnight companion at the break of dawn.

_Thank God for weekends!_

 

*** * * * ***

 

It was the breeze coming in through the open window that woke Jax up. Resting his hand over his eyes, he groaned as he got a faceful of the blazing morning sun that was streaming brightly through the open blinds.

"Shit," Jax moaned. "Who turned the fuckin' sun on in here?"

Peeking through his hands, he managed to spot the pile of bath towels sitting on top of the dresser next to his neatly folded kutte and clothes.

 _The heartless wench came in here and deliberately opened those blinds as punishment for dropping in on her completely wasted_ , Jax thought. Unable to help it, he let out a chuckle. _Ope always said his old lady could be evil when she wanted to be_.

Digging out his prepay, he was surprised to see that it was going on ten o'clock. "I guess I better let her have her room back." He croaked.

Easing himself up slowly, the young biker managed to place his feet on the floor and slowly got out of bed. When the room didn't spin and his stomach didn't feel like it was about to revolt, he realized that he hadn't tied one on as good as he thought. Of late, his fallback as a means of coping had been a heavy dose of alcohol and weed.

But now, after finally achieving outlaw justice in the name of brotherhood, and having shared that information, as well as his own feelings about it, with Donna, he was feeling a measure of peace. Enough so that he had a slight bounce in his step as he grabbed the towels off of the dresser and headed towards the bathroom.

 

*** * * * ***

 

Donna hummed to herself as she pulled together the ingredients she needed to make her kids their favorite Saturday breakfast of strawberry banana waffles and homemade whipped cream. The waffles were not only a favorite of Kenny and Ellie, but they had been a favorite of her old man as well. Needless to say, it had been a while since Donna could bring herself to make them. Recently, Kenny had asked when they could have them again and, with Ellie looking at her so hopefully, Donna knew that it was time. She had even made a special trip to the Farmer's Market in Modesto for the sweetest, juiciest strawberries and ripest bananas she could find.

Now with their unexpected guest, Donna would have to double the recipe because the man could eat.

In the bright and sunny light of day, Donna was feeling reasonably good about her talk with Jax the night before. She was still hoping, however, that Jax's brain would be a little fuzzy from his drinking binge, making it unlikely that he would remember his bout of flirtyness with her.

Instructing her rug rats to set the table for breakfast, Donna left her ingredients waiting for her on the counter as she headed towards the guest room. She had already checked on him once when she had dropped off the towels. Thankfully, he had been sleeping on his stomach and was still breathing. Now she was going to see if his stomach was up for breakfast before she made more than she needed if it wasn't.

Seeing that the bedroom door was still closed, in her haste, Donna walked past the bathroom. Suddenly hearing the water running, she turned on her heel. Donna smirked, hoping that Jax made really good use of the soap. Not realizing that the door was open wider than she had expected, once again, Donna was simply not prepared for the view.

Nearly swallowing her tongue, Donna promised herself that she had fully intended on walking right by the bathroom. She didn't know what had possessed her to look up, but now that she had, Donna found herself riveted to the floor.

 _OH. MY. GOD_!

The young widow's mouth fell open as she took in the magnificent sight before her. Even though the gusts of hot steam were quickly fogging up the clear glass of the shower stall, Donna managed to get a full load of Jackson Teller from behind.

With his hands braced against the wall in front of him, his feet spread apart and his head bowed, Donna watched as rivulets of water ran over his reaper tattoo, down the muscles of his back, meeting in a stream at the crack of his supremely defined ass before running down his well-toned thighs and legs.

With a shot of desire suddenly hitting her at her core, Donna was surprised as she had to fight the urge to strip down to her birthday suit and joining him. _Where the hell is that coming from_ , Donna chastised herself. Tearing her eyes away before she got caught, she quietly eased the door closed before quickly heading back to the kitchen.

Trying to laugh off her mutinous body's unexpected reaction, Donna was hard pressed to remember just why exactly she had banished Jax Teller to the Friend Zone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: As noted before, this story is quite different from anything I've done before. I am trying to stick with canon, but as you can see, I've added a twist that I hope sets it apart from other stories based on Season 1 of SOA. To be honest, when I started Four Women, I thought I knew exactly where I wanted to take the story. Now I'm not so sure.
> 
> Your thoughts and questions regarding this story so far are more than welcome. As always, thanks for reading!


	5. Muddied Waters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy.

" **The past is never where you think you left it."  
―Katherine Anne Porter**  


Smiling as she watched Jax bop down her walk way towards his bike, Donna slowly closed the door and sighed. The events of the evening before and that morning had been more than a bit intense between her and the outlaw biker.

_That was way too much hot biker to see before having my morning coffee._

Surprisingly, even after the unexpected eyeful, breakfast with Jax and her kids had been really comfortable and enjoyable. Ellie and Kenny had been surprised and delighted that their Uncle Jax had popped in for a visit, and everyone had managed to eat their fill of strawberry banana waffles that she churned out, along with crisp bacon, savory sausage and the sugary sweet coffee Jax loved.

Jax had hugged both of the kids goodbye, promising them that he'd stop by the following week to check on her and the kids, and had given her a chaste kiss on the forehead.

_The way he nearly licked the plate clean, I won't be surprised if he comes back again just in time for Saturday morning breakfast._

Turning in the direction of her now dirty kitchen, Donna stopped short as she noticed the envelope propped against the lamp sitting on the table in the foyer.

Knowing that the envelope had not been there the night before, Donna muttered to herself. "Damn it, Jax!"

Almost stumbling in her haste, Donna ran over to it and snatched it up. Ripping it open, she peered into the envelope and saw a thick stack of fifty dollar bills about an inch think.

"Holy shit." Donna swore under her breath.

Running back to her front door, Donna yanked it open, but it was too late. She could hear the roaring of Jax's bike in the distance.

Slamming the door, Donna stomped over to the couch and dropped down on it, angrily tossing the envelope of cash onto the coffee table as she folded her arms under her chest.

 _I'm not a fuckin' charity case_ , Donna fumed. _Jax should know better._

During the five years that Opie had been in Chino, Donna had struggled to take care of her family on her own. She hadn't wanted nor needed any help from the Club. Holding SAMCRO responsible for Ope's imprisonment, pride would not let Donna accept any handouts. There had been a few occasions when Donna had found herself squeezed so tight she felt about ready to choke under the weight of her responsibilities. Although Donna had never burdened Opie with the strain she was under financially, Jax seemed to have a sixth sense and had come to her rescue more than once, and mostly under the radar, like today.

Opie's best friend would often stop by to check on her and the kids and after he left, Donna would find that he had left behind money. It wasn't every time he visited and the amount varied, but to Donna, it always seemed to come at a time when she needed it the most. Unlike charity from the Club—invitations to events, family dinners at Gemma and Clay's or baskets of food during the holidays—Donna felt comfortable only taking help from Jax, knowing that his monetary gifts were truly heartfelt.

There were some old ladies in the Club, however, who had noticed how much attention Jax paid to his best friend's old lady. On more than one occasion, several Club women had made pointed comments to Donna about her enjoying the fringe benefits of Jax exercising the "prison clause."

Angry that anyone would think that she would ever consider cheating on the man she loved or that Jax would try to take advantage of Opie's incarceration to press up on her, Donna had pushed Jax away. She had pointedly asked him to stop coming by the house and refused to accept any further help from him. This had infuriated Jax, especially since Donna wouldn't explain why. With his own pride hurt, Jax chalked it up to stubborn pride on Donna's part when in reality she had been too embarrassed to fess up the real reason she was pushing him away.

Once Opie got out, however, accepting charity or earning money with the Club was no longer an option. Opie had promised to try to earn straight and not only had she fully supported his efforts, but so had her father, a foreman in one of Oswald's sawmills who gave Opie a job. So determined was Donna that she and Ope would make it on their own that when things got tight, she had gone so far as pick up weekend work at the local diner to supplement their income. But no matter how noble Opie's efforts were to stay on the straight and narrow, the Winstons couldn't get out from underneath their debt.

 _And now with Opie gone once again, forever this time, here comes Jax again to the rescue_ , Donna thought angrily _._

Picking up the envelope again, Donna turned it over and suddenly noticed Jax's scrawled handwriting on the front: "Don, for the kids. Please make sure to buy them a little something from their Uncle Jax."

"Well, shit on me." Donna murmured, feeling a little ashamed for jumping to conclusions.

The money was not so much charity as it was Jax's continued interest in the well-being of his best friend's family. Although the amount contained in the envelope was, in Donna's opinion, way above what was needed to buy a gift for the kids, truth was she hadn't been able to buy them clothes for school in months. Kenny was growing like a weed and whined every morning as they headed out the door about his high water pants, while Ellie could no longer zip up her jacket which was two sizes too small.

Pulling out two fifty dollar bills for Ellie and Kenny and enough to buy them some decent clothes, Donna stuffed the money into the pocket of her jeans and then headed to her bedroom. Standing on a stool in her closet, Donna surveyed a row of handbags she had on the top shelf and pulled down an old straw bag.

Sitting on her bed, she dug through the stuffing she kept in it to maintain its shape and pulled out a small black bag that was full of cash. It was what remained from the last of the money that Opie had earned with the Club, along with cash that she had added since she started her new job. Putting the envelope from Jax in the bag, Donna replaced everything and returned her hidden savings bank to its spot in plain sight in her closet. Jax had just made a rather large contribution to her "Ditch Charming Fund".

_And because of his generosity, I may be able to get my family out of this town sooner rather than later._

* * *

Jax sat back in the chair as he read from the illustrated children's book in his hands. Hearing the gurgle and loud squawk of his son, he grinned.

"Sorry, Little Man. I'm not as good at this as your grandma. She'll be here soon though."

It was mid-morning in the St. Thomas NICU and Jax had spent the last thirty minutes reading to his son while waiting for a break in his son's pediatrician's schedule. Both he and Gemma had gotten a call to come in for some good news. His mother, however, was running late, which was why Jax was entertaining his son by himself.

Looking at his son through the glass of the incubator, Jax couldn't believe how big he had gotten. After nearly four months in the hospital, Abel Teller had grown in size and in strength, and had beat the overwhelming odds that had been stacked against him. Jax was grateful that Abel was turning out to be a natural born fighter, especially since he had bailed on his own son—first, even before he was born and second, after his birth when he refused visit him. Jax had reasoned with himself that by not acknowledging his son's existence, it would lessen the pain of losing him when Abel finally died. Jax had been selfish and his mother had been right to smack some sense into him.

"Your old man was a fuckin' coward," Jax said quietly. "But I'm gonna make it up to you, son. I promise to be there for you always."

Just at that moment, a shadow was cast in the room through the large nursery window. Jax looked up, his eyes narrowing as he saw a familiar-looking man, tall and thin and wearing a leather jacket, staring at his son.

Jax didn't like it. He started to like it even less when he realized why the man might be familiar.

_He kind of looks like_ _the ATF asshole who dropped off Bobby._

As the strange man met his eyes, Jax saw something reflected in them that made him uneasy. Before Jax could get up to confront the bastard, however, he was already moving away from the window. By the time Jax made it to the door and ran down the corridor, looking in both directions, the man had disappeared as if he hadn't been there at all.

* * *

"Hey, there. Are you all right?"

Breathing a little hard, Jax turned to see Tara staring up at him with concern. Sighing, Jax ran his heavily-ringed fingers through his hair. "I'm fine. I just thought I saw someone I knew. No big deal."

He proffered a smile at the woman he once upon a time thought would always be his old lady. Tara Knowles had not changed much in the ten years since she had left Charming. She still had the same long hair that at times looked so dark it was almost mahogany, but in the sunlight was actually a warm, vibrant and beautiful shade of auburn. She was still rocking high heels, Jax guessed, in an attempt to add to her height just like when she had been a teenager. And not even the loose fitting blue scrubs and knee-length lab coat could hide her signature curvy figure. Shit, those creamy curves once had the ability to make him lose all sense of reason.

_Wonder if she still has my crow._

Shaking the cobwebs from his mind as it took a sudden left turn down memory lane, Jax grinned. "Making your rounds?"

"Yeah, and I was just on my way to check on Abel. Come with?" Tara smiled, her dark green eyes sparkling.

"Sure." Jax replied and they fell into step beside each other as they headed towards Abel's room. "So, how have you been?" He asked.

"I'm okay." Tara nodded, holding a file against her chest, her arms crossed. "It's been pretty busy around here. You?"

"It's been good, especially with Little Man getting better."

Stopping outside the nursery, Tara asked Jax to wait in the seating area. Jax watched briefly as Tara examined his son while speaking to one of the nurses before taking a seat and waited.

As she exited the room, Jax anxiously stood up. "Is everything a'ight? Mom and I got the call this morning that Dr. Namid wanted to see us—"

Tara walked towards him and placed a gentle hand on his arm, urging him to sit down again and took the seat next to him. "There's nothing to worry about, Jax. Everything is fine. The doctor wanted to speak to you directly, but asked me to step in if he didn't get down here by noon."

"Good. I'm not so sure I could take any bad news today."

"Don't worry. No bad news here." Tara assured him. Seeing Jax fix his gaze on her with a weird smile on his face unnerved Tara. "What?" She laughed nervously.

"Nothing." Jax shook his head. "I just figured you'd land a million miles from this place. You always hated it here."

"I didn't hate Charming, Jax." She rolled her eyes. "Just me in it. At the time." She responded, wondering what he would think if he knew how much she had lived to regret her decision to leave.

Trying to reconcile the badass he had known back in the day with the obviously accomplished doctor sitting before him, Jax nodded. "Yeah, I think I can understand that."

While waiting for Dr. Namid, Tara felt the need to fill the silence between them with mindless chatter, something that had never been necessary for them in the past. After watching Jax and Wendy getting along so well, she had been unable to think about anything else since. Before she could stop herself, Tara was putting a voice to those thoughts.

"It looks like Wendy is doing all right. I see her around the hospital a lot, visiting Abel. It looks like her rehab is going well." She moistened her suddenly dry lips. "Are you two together?"

Jax let his gaze fall as he stroked his chin. "To tell you the truth," He suddenly looked up and into her eyes. "I'm not exactly sure."

Tara's eyes widened slightly in surprise. "That sounds kind of sticky."

"Well, we're definitely in a weird place right now." Jax nodded in agreement. "I filed over a year ago, but then she got clean about ten months back. We tried to reconcile. It didn't work out too well."

"It looks like at least one good thing came out of it." She said encouragingly as she nudged her head towards the nursery.

Jax grinned, the pride he felt for his son shining on his handsome face. "Yeah, I guess it did. Right now, Abel is what's most important and should be the focus of both of our lives. I know he deserves to have two parents that love him. I'm just not sure if Wendy and I together is the right call to make, but I kinda feel like I should try to make shit work, you know?"

Tara put a hand on Jax's thigh and gave it a gentle squeeze. "It's a difficult place your in, Jax. But I've come to really understand that the best decisions are made in the cold light of day, not in the dark where shadows can hide the problems you might not be willing to recognize. Maybe you shouldn't rush into making a decision just yet and just concentrate on your son."

"Oh my, that is certainly interesting advice, Dr. Knowles. I didn't know you had a psychology degree, too."

Both Tara and Jax jumped as they looked up to see Gemma standing just a few feet away.

* * *

Jax stood up. "Hey, Mom. It's about time you got here." He wrapped an arm around her to kiss her on the cheek.

"Sorry I got held up, baby. I hope I'm not too late." Gemma replied.

 _Not too late to nip this shit in the fuckin' bud_ , Gemma thought heatedly. _Just when things seem to be moving along with Wendy, this bitch rears her ugly head._

Gemma had been striding down the hall towards the nursery when she saw that her son was not alone in the waiting room. Gemma had quickened her pace because, even from a distance, she could see just how cozy the two of them were with each other, causing Gemma to grit her teeth. Gemma had reached the oblivious pair just in time to hear Tara's piece of unwanted advice.

Gemma couldn't prevent her mind from working the way it did even if she tried. It was the result of years of training and exposure to the Life. As the matriarch of SAMCRO, it was her job to watch out for all of her family, none more so than her son. The last thing Jax needed was some long-lost tart screwing with his head and separating him from his Club and his family, and right now Wendy was his family.

_Obviously, giving Wendy a makeover won't be enough. I'm going to have to convince Jax to do the right thing for his family and his son._

Tara, now standing as well, nodded to the older women. _God, she came out of nowhere, like the Smoke Monster._ Noting the sour expression on her face, Tara could tell that the Queen of Charming was none too happy having caught her with Jax.

 _Well, that's too bad. As Abel's doctor, she's just going to have to deal with my presence._ Tara refused to consider the other reasons why Gemma would be pissed at her and focused on the reason why they had both been called to the hospital.

"Gemma, Jax, please follow me." Walking through Abel's NICU room, Tara opened the door at the opposite end and ushered them in. The room was a prettily decorated nursery with a couple of rocking chairs.

"What's going on?" Gemma demanded.

Tara gave her a perfunctory smile. "Dr. Namid wanted to be here, but he told me to proceed if he wasn't here by now. He didn't think you should have to wait any longer." Turning to Jax, Tara gave him a wide, bright smile. "Dr. Namid is very satisfied with Abel's recovery and he decided that the day has come for Abel to come out of the incubator. You're going to get to hold your son today, Jax."

Jax swallowed the lump in his throat, his eyes suddenly moist as his mother gasped. "Really? Right now?"

Tara nodded. "Right now. Stay right here."

"Oh baby!" Gemma cried, hugging Jax as Tara headed into Abel's room. They both watched as the young doctor worked with the nurse to remove her grandson from his toaster, as Jax had taken to calling the incubator that had helped keep his son alive.

Tara, rocking the small, swaddled bundle in her arms, walked into the room and straight for Jax. She could plainly see the overwhelming joy and happiness, with just a tinge of fear, on his face. Gemma looked on, her eyes brimming with love and pride, as Jax eagerly accepted his son.

Sitting down in a rocking chair, Jax couldn't believe how tiny his son felt in his arms, barely weighing five pounds. "Hey," He murmured softly as Abel gurgled and cooed as he sucked on a little fist. "I don't know how to break this to ya Kid, but I'm your old man." Jax smiled, his voice thick with tears.

Looking up at his mother, his face an open book, reflecting the overwhelming love he felt for Abel, Gemma nodded at Jax, and followed Tara outside to leave the new father and his son alone for the first time.

* * *

Parking his bike in its customary spot, Jax swaggered towards the Clubhouse. He had just spent another afternoon with his son. It had been a week since Abel was officially released from the toaster and it was the first really good thing to happen to Jax since the death of his best friend.

He was not the only one happy about his son's progress. Wendy had been overjoyed to finally hold her son. Having met with both Dr. Namid and Tara, they had learned that Abel was making better-than-expected progress and that it was quite possible that he would be ready to go home in about a month's time.

He had also shared the good news with Donna and the kids, stopping over for a visit on Saturday morning, just in time to snag an invitation for breakfast. Jax had spent half the time the time stuffing his face with Donna's awesome waffles and the other half showing off pictures and videos of his son to the Winston family.

Although it was obvious to him that Donna was truly happy for him, he could still sense a weird vibe coming from her, almost as if she was keeping something from him. She was still warm and welcoming, a little more like the woman she had been before Opie died, but he felt as if he were being kept at arm's length. Remembering the cash he had left behind the last time he had come over, his own cut from the last sale to Tony Caccuzza of a two dozen Glocks, Jax thought he had an idea where the change in her demeanor had come from. Jax made a mental note to talk to her, but like any smart man, he was going to give her space to cool off first.

Entering the Clubhouse, Jax was glad to see Bobby Elvis, who had just sat down at one of the tables with a loaf of his famous and freshly-baked banana bread on a plate, a bottle of Jack and a shot glass.

"That looks like a good idea. Let me join ya." Grabbing a shot glass from the bar, Jax flipped a chair around and straddled it, facing his brother. "Fill it up, bro."

The shaggy-haired, potbellied man grinned at his VP. "Looks like somebody is in a good mood."

"Yeah. Was hanging out with Little Man today." Jax quickly knocked back his drink and then took the slice of proffered banana bread. "He's looking real good. Real strong."

"I'm not surprised. He comes from a strong breed. He's a Teller, after all."

Jax chuckled. "Yeah. I'm finally starting to feel like things are turning around for the better."

Bobby poured them both another shot. "Shit, things been going sideways for so long, you learn to really appreciate the good things when they happen. Your boy being sick, losing Ope, it's been a rough patch for the Club. How you holding up with that, brother?"

Jax sighed. "I don't know, man. Opie's been gone three months and we cleaned shit up, but I guess I had hoped that in the end I'd feel like everything was settled, like I had accomplished something. But, I don't know, Bobby, I just feel like I'm still waiting for another shoe to drop."

"Sounds like some residual crap you need to leave in the rear view, brother." Bobby advised.

"You're prolly right."

"I was just sorry as shit that I was in lock up when everything went south. Fuckin' ATF gash!"

"She's not our problem anymore," Jax replied. "But we might have another, though. What do you know about the suit that dropped you off?"

Bobby raised an eyebrow. "Tall, skinny piece of shit?"

"Yeah, that's him."

Bobby shrugged his shoulders. "Not much. After Stahl got canned, nobody bothered me much, except to hold onto my ass for another thirty days in the hopes of regenerating the case. When that didn't happen, they finally cut me loose. I just figured he was the unlucky prick assigned to play chauffeur and bring my ass home."

"I can't be too sure—I only saw him from a distance that night—but I think he was at the hospital the other day. Watching me with Abel." Jax explained.

"That ain't good, brother. Are you sure it was him?" Bobby asked.

"I didn't get the best look, but the more I think about it, the more I think it might have been him." Jax replied.

"Well, if the A, T and fuckin' F is about to set up shop in Charming again, I think you better bring it to the table." Bobby advised.

Just then the doors to the Chapel opened and Clay and Tig exited. Jax narrowed his eyes, coming to the realization that those two seemed to be deep in each other's pockets.

 _Now why don't I have a good feeling about that when it's Tig's job to watch Clay_ _'s back_ , Jax thought grimly as his President headed towards him.

"Hey, good thing you're here. I need you to saddle up. Laroy just called and he wants a meet."

Jax stood up. "You want my input this time?" He countered sarcastically.

"Yeah," Clay smiled bitterly. "That is, if you're not too busy having tea and crumpets with Dame Elvis here," Nodding at Bobby. "Come on, you too, fat boy."

"A'ight." Jax nodded. As he and Bobby followed behind his Prez and the SAA, Jax had one nagging thought.

_I have a feeling that other shoe is about to drop._

* * *

"Here comes Captain Black." Tig announced as a low slung black sports car blasting loud hip hop music pulled into the gas station just inside Charming's city limits, a location picked by Clay for the meet.

"Premium or regular, sir?" Clay joked as Laroy Wayne and his lieutenant exited the car.

With no preamble Laroy got to the point. "Your Intel checked out. That dead Mayan _was_ flashing our sign. Had to be the Mexicans killed their own guy." The leader of the One-Niner crew gave Clay a wide grin. "I guess you and me, we're going steady again."

Clay shook the gangbanger's hand. "I'm happy to say, our little Mexican retail experiment's in the rear view, brother."

 _What the fuck_? Jax raged inwardly. He looked over at Bobby, who just shrugged his shoulders, just as clueless as he was.

"You look tired, man." Clay commented.

"Yeah, well, recreational H is drying up. There ain't no stimulus plan for the middle-class powder user, so Black and Brown are back to fighting over the junky trade."

"Yeah, recession sucks." The SAMCRO President agreed.

Laroy's lieutenant spoke up. "We're going to need two dozen AKs."

"Okay, they'll be simple, though. No scopes, no mods." Clay advised.

"As long as we get them by Friday." Laroy agreed.

"All right." Clay looked over at his VP. "That doable?"

Jax eyed him for a beat longer than Clay looked comfortable with. "Yeah, assembly should be no problem." He conceded.

"Good," Clay looked back at Laroy. "We'll call you with a location.

* * *

Clay was leaning back lazily in his chair at the head of the table, enjoying a cigar, and ready to call this meeting to order if only Jax would stop pacing back and forth.

"You look agitated, VP. Something on your mind?" Clay drawled sardonically. Jax stopped his pacing and glared at Clay. Not liking the look on his stepson's face, Clay sat up. "Judging from your demeanor, I suggest you choose your words carefully if you're about to rip me a new one."

Falling heavily into his chair, Jax leaned towards Clay. "I'm just trying to get shit straight in my head. Like how did the piece of shit that killed Opie get tagged as a Niner hit? Especially since sure as shit, I remember carving a big fuckin' 'A' on his chest." Jax demanded.

The Chapel was silent as the VP of the mother charter threw down the blanket charge at his President, confirming for Clay that this was a discussion to have behind closed doors.

"I'd like an answer to that myself!" Piney thundered. Pointing a finger at Tig, Piney continued. "You fought me tooth and nail, claiming the Niners had nothing to do with my son's death, and convinced us that it had to be the wetbacks. You let his brother," The old man indicated Jax. "Do the honors of avenging him, only to turn around and tag it a Niner kill? Explain to me how that gets a message to the Mayans that we know they were responsible if they don't even know that we took out their guy."

"It's gonna make us look weak, brutha. Like da Sons can't handle their shyte and farmed out the kill." Chibs said grimly. "That's gunna hurt us, hurt our reputation."

"Hold on, hold on." Clay banged his gavel to get everyone's attention. "There was a good reason for letting the Niners take the hit even though we know they weren't responsible. We get our vengeance against the wetbacks and it takes Mayan heat off SAMCRO and puts it back on Black. The Niners are already losing ground to the Mayans in the H trade and they're itching to go to war to get it back. Ultimately, the Niners clean house for us regarding the Mayans and we get to generate more business. Laroy's already put in an order for $50K-worth of new AKs."

"Money?" Piney growled as he pounded his fists onto the table. "Is that all you can think of when my boy's blood is crying out from the grave? This bullshit greed is what got us here in the first place!"

"For your information, old man, I'm also thinking about the safety of this Club!" Clay growled right back. "Can we really afford another war with the Mayans? Do you really want a repeat of Bloody '92? The body count alone nearly wiped us out."

The silence was deafening.

"When Tig called and told me how Jax had marked the body, I made an instant call for the good of the Club. There was no time to call a fuckin' vote," Clay said belligerently. "The deed is done, brothers. What I need to know is do you stand behind your President when he tells you that the decisions he's had to make have been made in the best interest of the Club or are you going to bitch and moan about how I chose to handle the problem?" When no one answered, Clay nodded his head. "Good." Looking at Jax he said, "We need to get that order out. I think it's a good idea for you and Chibs to work on the assembly. Give you time to get your head straight. Agreed?"

Jax narrowed his eyes, but said nothing, instead giving Clay a slight nod to show his acceptance of the task.

Clay slammed the gavel down. "Then meeting adjourned."

* * *

Jax checked the gun one last time before putting it in the duffle bag. Working in the basement of the new weapons depot with Chibs for the last couple of days had given the young outlaw a lot of time to think.

_There are just too many variables I'm not seeing here._

Jax was starting to believe that there were some serious issues within the mother charter. It seemed that ever since Opie had died, Clay has been operating unchecked, with his SAA as his willing sidekick. What bothered Jax the most was Clay was taking action unilaterally, later claiming that he had done so for the good of the Club. From Jax's perspective at the table, it seemed like Clay was acting with his _own_ best interests in mind.

First, he had kept Jax out of the loop regarding the Intel on Opie's killer. Then he stripped Jax of the honor of claiming vengeance for his brother by framing the Niners for Jax's kill. None of it was sitting right with him. His gut was telling Jax that there was something more at work here. But letting his gut lead his conscience was a double-edged sword. Especially when his gut was telling him to disregard what Clay is trying to convince the Club was true because—

_Then everything we've been told is a lie. The question is why?_

"You look like you have some pretty heavy thoughts on ya mind, brutha."

Jax looked up as Chibs walked in with another duffle bag to transport Laroy's shipment.

"Yeah, just a man and his thoughts."

Chibs placed the duffle bag on top of the large block of counter space next to Jax. "Anything ya want to run by me, Jackie Boy?"

Jax stopped what he was doing to look at his friend. While Bobby was more like an uncle to him, it was Chibs who he had always looked up to the most, almost like an older brother. Jax had used him numerous times as a sounding board because he could always rely on Chibs giving him unbiased council.

Chibs, who had known John Teller from his time with SAMBEL, had always respected the younger man, seeing a lot of his father's good qualities.

 _And some of the bad_ , Chibs grinned, his scars stretching upwards.

But now he could see that the younger man was worried, introverted. He remembered seeing JT like that a time or two. But usually once he had seen his way through muddied waters, JT usually acted decisively and always managed to clear away the shit and come out smelling like roses.

Chibs, who had earlier in the week voiced his own doubts regarding his President's decision to tag Opie's killer as a Niner hit, had a feeling that Jackie Boy was in the midst of wading through muddied waters himself. He could only hope that when Jax finally came through on the other side, he'd be able to fix what was wrong within the Club.

 _When the shit comes down the pike,_ _do I fall in line with my President or do I give my support to Jax_?

"Nah, it's just a weird time for the Club right now. It almost feels like controlled chaos and what's not sitting right with me is that Clay is doing all the controlling." Jax replied.

"That last Church session was a wee bit crazy," Chibs nodded. "But like you said, laddie, these are strange times we're in."

"Don't get me wrong, I understand that there might be times when Clay has to make quick and difficult decisions as President, but now just doesn't seem to be that time to operate unchecked, not when lives are at stake. First with his decision to sell to the Mayans—"

"Hold on, Jackie Boy. Are you thinkin' to issue an officer challenge, then?"

"No, nothing like that." Jax said quickly. "His decisions have raised some doubts in my mind, but not enough to justify a challenge to his leadership. It would take a lot more than a couple of bad decisions, but I'm feeling like Clay needs to be reined in a little and reminded that we are a brotherhood. I love my Club, Chibs and the last thing I want is for anything to cause a fracture from within. I just don't know what to do."

Chibs nodded soberly. "You got a good head on your shoulders, Jax. You've legitimate concerns, brutha, I know once you get it all sorted out in ya head, you'll do what's right. In the meantime, always 'no you can come to me and talk shyte out." Clapping a hand on the younger man's shoulder he continued. "But know this. If someone is doing harm to the charter, then I will do whateva needs to be done to save the Club first."


	6. Running Interference

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy.

_One month later_.

Jax and Gemma watched from outside Abel's room as the nurse dressed him again after Tara was done with her examination. Jotting down some final notes, Tara flipped Baby Teller's file closed and smiled at the anxious looking pair.

"Good news. Abel's heart and tummy are strong and his blood work has been excellent. If all goes well, Dr. Namid will discharge your son on Saturday." Tara smiled broadly at the shocked, but happy looks on the faces of the two people that loved this baby the most.

Suddenly, Tara found herself engulfed by Jax's embrace. Breathing in his scent, the doctor gave herself a moment to enjoy the sensation of being in his arms again before pulling back just a tiny bit to look into the moist eyes of the tough outlaw biker. "Thanks, Doc. If it wasn't for you—"

"Hey," She shook her head slightly, fighting the urge to place a small finger across his soft lips to shush him. "I was just part of an incredible team led by the amazingly talented Dr. Namid. I'm proud that I was able to do my part to help your son."

 _I bet she is_ , Gemma narrowed her eyes at the still embracing couple.

Gemma was not a forgiving woman, but even she had to begrudgingly agree with Jax. Tara had indeed played a large role in saving her grandson.

 _I might not trust the bitch's motives for helping Abel, but I have to accept the fact that her skilled hands and hands-on care are a big part of the reason why he's alive_.

As the couple finally pulled apart, Gemma extended a hand towards Tara. Her "Thank you" was stated simply and without emotion.

Taking the proffered hand, Tara noticed that Gemma's smile barely changed the expression on the rest of her face and hadn't quite reached the woman's eyes.

 _Either Gemma still hates my guts or she's Botoxed up the wah-zoo_ , Tara almost giggled out loud.

* * *

Jax closed the door to his son's room and headed down the hall. He could hardly believe that in four short days Abel would finally be released from the hospital and sent home with him. After their meeting with Tara, Gemma had taken off, babbling to herself plans for a party to welcome home her grandson, as well as finalizing the hiring process for the perfect help to aid Jax with Abel's care.

His mother had surprisingly taken his soon-to-be ex-wife under her wing and they had spent much time shopping and decorating Abel's nursery together. Jax was just so relieved that his son was not just out of the woods, but in the home stretch to a complete and full recovery that he couldn't be bothered to dwell too much on Gemma's newfound interest in Wendy. He knew that raising his son was going to be difficult enough without taking into consideration his fucked up relationship with Abel's mother. But first things first. Jax had decided to take Tara's advice and not commit himself to making a decision until life settled into what passed as normal for him. One step in that direction was devoting himself to becoming a real father for his son. He wanted to spend as much time as possible bonding with Abel. Jax hoped that the balance and peace he felt with his son would help him put into perspective his feelings of insecurity and inadequacy about being a father, husband, and a Son.

"Hey, Jax!" Jax turned around to find Tara almost running down the hall. Coming to a stop, she was trying to catch her breath. "Are you leaving now?"

"Yeah. Little Man fell asleep on me, so I thought I'd head on home. Got some shit to do."

"I know this might be an inconvenience," Tara started, fighting the urge to gnaw her thumb nail nervously. "But I was wondering if you could give me a ride home."

Jax's wolfish grin was an automatic response whenever a woman asked to ride bitch on his bike. As was the obligatory quick scan he did of her body as he appraised the beautiful young doctor. "Sure. Is there something wrong with the Cutlass?"

 _Not unless you consider it covered in rose petals as something wrong_ , Tara thought grimly.

It was finding those beautiful pink and red petals scattered all over her car as she came out of her house this morning—combined with the memory of the sick photos that Joshua had given her of Jax with other women—that had caused her to go back into her father's house. Pulling out a box of junk located in the hall closet, Tara dug around until she found the small wrapped bundle. The Ruger LCR double-action revolver had belonged to her father and was properly licensed and registered. Staring at the hunk of cold steel in her hand for what seemed like an eternity, she had finally shoved it into her bag. The weight of it, just knowing that she had it should have made her feel safe. Instead, however, it had given her an even more ominous feeling that things were about to get bad for her in Charming.

After her first encounter with Joshua, Tara had tentatively broached the subject of the restraining order she had gotten in Chicago with Deputy Chief David Hale. Without going into detail, she had asked him about the enforcement of such orders. David had promised to look into it, but as of yet, she still had no clue if the R.O. would be enforceable in Charming.

Tara shrugged her shoulders. "Nah, I'm just tired. It's been a really hectic and busy shift and I just don't feel like driving."

"No problem, darlin'. You ready now?"

"I just need about 15 minutes to wrap things up. Can I meet you out front?"

Jax nodded with a smile. "Sure thing." The smile had quickly slipped off his face as he watched her turn around and head down the corridor to the Nurses' Station.

Something was off with the Doc and Jax was sure it was more than just fatigue.

* * *

As the wind whipped through Tara's hair hanging out of Jax's helmet, she grinned to herself.

 _God I forgot how much fucking fun this is_!

With her arms wrapped tightly around Jax's muscled waist, his six-pack clearly outlined against her hands, Tara's body remembered how good it felt to tear up asphalt, leaning in and out of the curves riding bitch on the back of her old man's bike.

It had been one of the ways that the two of them would escape from the constant pressure and demand on their time and into a private world of their own making. It was almost like Jax could sense when she needed it the most and would show up wherever she was unexpectedly and they would just up and hit the road at a moments notice. Tara had seen all of NorCal on the back of Jax's bike in the three years they had been together. He knew some of the best deserted roads and the two of them would ride hard and fast, as far as they could go to try and outrun their demons. Jax had still been dealing with the premature deaths of his little brother and father, as well as the changes that JT's death had brought into his life, all the while being pressured mercilessly by Gemma to devote himself to SAMCRO. Tara, on the other hand, had issues of her own that she was unwilling to deal with, biding her time until she turned 18 and could get the hell out of Charming.

And she had a lot to escape from. With no one else in Charming other than her handsome father, who had suffered a grief and alcohol-induced psychotic break after her mother died, Tara had pretty much raised herself. Already feeling like a social outcast, being noticed at 16 by a young, arrogant and sexy blond biker had introduced Tara to a whole new world filled with other social outcasts. With her self-esteem having taken a big hit from living with a verbally, and sometimes physically, abusive father, her quick acceptance into the MC world gave Tara, for the first time in her life, the sense of finally fitting in.

While teachers and counselors had tried convincing her that she was losing her own identity by throwing herself whole-heartedly into Jax's world, Tara's life continued as a series of escape attempts from the life she had known before meeting Jax. Although an above-average student with good grades, Tara had started cutting classes with Jax and drinking and smoking weed, which had resulted in numerous arrests for drunk and disorderly conduct. Then there was her constant need to beat the stank off of whores—both in and out of the Clubhouse—who mistook her quiet and reserved manner as a sign of weakness. Jax Teller was the love of her life. Anyone who wanted a crack at him had to get through her first. Eventually, Tara had proven herself a tried and tested tough girl who could handle her shit.

For the first time in a long time, her life in Charming was good.

Until, that is, the day Jax had slapped his crow on her.

To say that all hell had broken loose would be an understatement. Gemma lost her shit in the worst way. Up until that moment, Gemma had been indifferent to Jax's seeming obsession with the Knowles girl, as she always referred to Tara. Different from the women who hung around the Clubhouse, Gemma could see her allure. Although pretty much a badass quite capable of keeping up with Gemma's hell-raising son, Tara was downright wholesome-looking when compared to the croweaters forever hanging off of Jax's jock.

Before hooking up with the Prince of Charming, Tara had a goody-goody and somewhat pristine reputation. Gemma knew Tara was a challenge for Jax, who enjoyed corrupting so-called good girls and initiating their introduction into the world of dirty, bad boy biker sex. It was that wholesome, girl-next-door component that made Tara Knowles without a doubt the worst old lady for Jax Teller. Or at least that was Gemma's opinion because as future President of SAMCRO Jax needed a strong old lady, one that would pull him closer to the Club, not pull him away.

Before taking an immediate disliking to the girl after getting "crowed", Gemma had had many conversations with Tara both at the Clubhouse and at home about just how backwards and incestuous a small town like Charming could be. Tara was working on getting herself back on track with her studies because her only hope of ever leaving was to go to college.

Gemma had admired that ambition in the girl that her son was fucking on the regular. However, that ambition in the girl who her son had stupidly made his old lady would not be tolerated. Gemma could see it in Jax. The young biker that never got hung up on pussy was in over his head and had fallen for the damaged young woman. To make matters worse, it was that "I'm-gonna-die-if-I'm-not-with-you-every-moment-of-every-day" kind of love. Jax had never been in a serious relationship before Tara, but Gemma knew that what they considered to be the "real" thing was nothing more than teenage obsession, something they would both outgrow if they only gave themselves the chance.

That obsession wasn't love, but it was dangerous. Not only was it a distraction, but Gemma knew in her heart that if Tara left Charming, she wouldn't be leaving alone. And that most definitely would not be tolerated.

Gemma Teller-Morrow had made damn sure of that.

Tara had not disappointed. After falling too far behind in order to graduate on time, Tara finally finished high school several weeks after her nineteenth birthday and immediately started making plans to leave Charming. With his old lady now constantly butting heads with his mother, Jax decided that maybe Tara was right. Maybe he needed a break in the real world before deciding to throw himself into the MC. With Jax unwilling to listen to reason, Gemma had suffered what she described as a "near fatal episode" because of the strain on her heart and ended up in the hospital. Tara knew Gemma was playing the only card she had left, exploiting Jax's fear of losing another loved one. Without Gemma having to say another word, Jax reneged on his agreement to leave Charming with Tara. His mother needed him more and if Tara truly loved him, she would stay.

Although Tara knew that was Jax's guilt talking, if he couldn't see he was being manipulated by his devious mother, then maybe he wasn't the man she needed in her life.

Even though heartbroken, Tara went on to create a new life for herself, first in San Diego and then in Chicago. A very serious life, one where she was continually amazed at the things she was capable of learning and accomplishing. But there were times that within that life she had so carefully created, Tara felt as if she never really knew or understood herself. In the process of trying to discover who she really was, she had put herself in the path of a dangerous man. She could lie and try to convince herself otherwise, but Tara knew Joshua Kohn was only part of the reason she had come running back to Charming. The other, bigger part was because only one man had ever really and truly loved her. While away from Charming, she had never dared dreamed it could happen again, but at the moment, she was once again riding on the back of that man's bike.

Pulling into the driveway of her father's house, Tara leaned her head against Jax's back. It had been so good to wrap her arms around him again, to feel the soft leather of his kutte against her cheek, the smell of it combined with the heady mix of his aftershave and cigarettes that was so familiar, so comforting and safe.

Finally, Tara released her hold from around Jax's waist and got off his bike. Taking off the helmet which he had insisted she wear, Tara smiled hesitantly at Jax.

"Thanks for the lift. I really appreciate it." She said. Realizing that in a few short minutes she would be home alone, Tara could do very little to hide the tremor in her voice.

"No problem, Doc." Jax quirked an eyebrow at her. "You seem a little nervous. You a'ight?"

"Yeah, I'm . . . okay."

Shaking his head slightly, Jax decided he wasn't buying what she was trying to sell. "This worry I'm getting here, does it have anything to do with that car that's been following us?"

"What?" She whispered, her eyes darting up and down the street anxiously as Jax got off his bike.

"The compact parked halfway down the block." Jax nudged his head discreetly in that direction.

Moving only her wide, frightened eyes to look where Jax had indicated, Tara felt her breath catch in her throat. Not knowing what to say, feeling equal parts embarrassment and the familiar fear of being cornered like an animal, Tara quickly turned and headed towards her front door without answering him.

But Jax wasn't giving up. Striding behind her, he watched as she struggled with the locks on her front door. "Tara? What the hell is going on?"

Grunting in frustration as she couldn't get the last key into the door with her hands shaking violently, Tara finally whirled around, barely able to force herself to look Jax in his eyes. Trying to sound calm, she was still unable to hide the trembling in her voice. "I was with a man back in Chicago. He's with ATF. He got possessive, it got violent, I tried to end it, and he started stalking me. I got a restraining order, but—"

Striding down the driveway without a second thought, he ordered "Get inside, Tara." Seeing the fear reflected in her dark green eyes, Jax was almost disappointed to see that the confident badass old lady that used to tool around town with him prior to leaving Charming was nowhere in sight.

"Jax, no. He's dangerous." She called after him.

"Get inside and lock the door. Now!" Tara's warnings barely registered as he headed towards the man sitting in the gray sedan. As their eyes met, Jax had all the confirmation he needed as he recognized the slim-hipped and older man who had stood watching him and Abel at the hospital.

Pulling his KA-BAR out of its sheath, Jax didn't hesitate as he rammed it into the sedan's grill, immediately causing the engine to leak fluid.

Indignantly leaping out of the car, Special Agent Joshua Kohn slammed the car door. His glare boring holes into Jax's face from behind his sunglasses, he stepped _way_ into Jax's personal space.

"Vandalism, brandishing a deadly weapon. That's six months in County, asshole!" He snarled.

Jax smirked. "Stalking, violating a restraining order. You'll be in a cell right next to me. Did they teach you how to suck dick in ATF School?" He shot back.

"Bad ass biker." Kohn sneered.

"That's right, you piece of ATF scum. And you harassing Tara? That ends here, or next time it won't be a piece of shit car I'm draining fluid from."

"You threatening a federal agent?"

"No. I'm threatening _you_. Go away. It's my last warning." Jax replied as he stalked back down the street toward Tara's house.

* * *

Tara paced back and forth in her living room, too scared to even look out the window to see what the fuck was going on. Barely managing to catch the scream that almost tore from her throat at the sudden banging on the front door, Tara ran to it, her right hand still holding the gun she had managed to pull out of her bag. Peering through the peephole, Tara sighed with relief when she saw it was Jax and that he was alone. Unlocking the door, she stood back to let him enter.

"What happened?" She demanded.

Turning around to face her, Jax's eyes widened as he saw the gun in her hand. "What the fuck are you doing with that?"

Tara waved it around alarmingly. "What do you think? I'm carrying it for protection, damn it!"

Walking over to her, Jax slowly retrieved the gun from her hand. Relieved to see that the safety was still on, he placed it on the coffee table. Sitting down on the couch, he pulled Tara beside him. Wrapping an arm around her, it was so easy for Tara to curl into his side as she wrapped her arms around him. For the next several minutes the two of them simply cuddled on the couch, the only noise was the sound of their combined breathing.

Pulling away from her, Jax used his hand to tuck a strand of hair that had escaped Tara's ponytail behind her ear. "You a'ight now?"

Swallowing the lump in her throat, Tara nodded.

"How long has this asshole been stalking you?"

"He showed up at the hospital about a month ago. Scared the living shit out of me, I wasn't expecting to see him. He said that he was in town on a case and wanted to give me a heads up." Tara looked into Jax's clear blue eyes. "He said he was here to check out SAMCRO. I know I probably should have said something—" She started, but Jax shook his head.

"Don't worry about it, darlin'. Just tell me everything."

Tara sighed. "There's not much more to tell. When I told him that I still had the restraining order he told me that it wasn't enforceable because his federal authority trumped state-issued orders and that he was in Charming only for the Club. After that, I hadn't seen him around so I thought it was all good. Until this morning."

"What happened this morning?" Jax asked, his brow furrowed.

"I stepped out into the car port to go to work and the hood of my car was covered with rose petals. He's done that before as a way to get under my skin. In Chicago. After we broke up and I got the R.O. It was his way of letting me know that he was always there, always watching."

"Shit! Sick fuck!" He growled.

"Typically, one wouldn't think that sprinkling rose petals on top of a car was some perverted act, but, yeah, that's pretty much how I felt at the time." Tara stated, leaving out the fact that when things had been good between her and Josh, he would sprinkle rose petals into a warm bath for her and on their bed before making love to her. "That, combined with those damn photos—" Just as quickly, Tara knew she put her foot in her mouth.

_Shit!_

"What photos?" Jax demanded. "Where are they?"

"I don't have them any more," Tara mumbled. "I burned them. They were nothing, Jax." She shook her head.

"They must have been something, Tara, something bad enough for you to burn." Jax reasoned. "Tell me." He prodded gently. If he was to help her out, he needed to know what kind of man he was dealing with.

"I guess Joshua thinks I came back here," Tara moistened her suddenly parched lips. "To be with you. It was his way of trying to discourage me. They were pictures of you, but you weren't exactly alone. Or dressed." She sighed avoiding his eyes.

As what she had said registered, Jax's eyes widened. "What a sick fuckin' freak!" Jax growled. "Aw shit, Tara—" Jax ran his hand through his hair. This conversation was starting to sound familiar. Tara calling him out on his bullshit and him apologizing.

"Hey, no sweat, Jax." Tara laughed weakly. "It's not like I didn't know you were something of a man-whore or what your fine ass looked like naked. After all, I was in a number of catfights over you back in the day."

 _She thinks my ass is still fine_? Jax felt the heat in his face and just knew that he, the VP of the mother charter of the Sons of Anarchy, was blushing. "Yeah, well." He said sheepishly.

"Yeah, well." She imitated, letting herself smile.

"That doesn't explain why you didn't tell me about this asshole. After all you've done for me, for my son, how could you think I'd leave you hanging? After all we've been through together, Tara?" Jax said earnestly.

"Jax, I didn't come back home because I wanted you to take care of me. I'm not trying to trade on an old relationship to have you rescue me from the stupid shit I got myself into. I just," Tara sighed. "Felt like Charming was the one place I could come back to, lose myself in, and be safe again. I didn't want to get you or the Club mixed up in my business. You know your mother would probably birth a cow if she knew about this shit."

"Forget about my mother. What's important is your safety." Jax assured her. "I'm not gonna leave you to deal with this asshole by yourself. Okay?"

Seeing Jax with a resolute look on his face, Tara felt for the first time since running into Kohn the warmth of relief flooding her veins. "Okay."

Jax tilted his head to look at her. "You know, I gotta ask."

"Ask what?"

"How the fuck did you end up with such a loser? I mean, not to point out the obvious, but he's kinda like _old_. I mean really old. He's got to be what, 10, 15 years older than you? Does he even have pecs anymore or are his gray old man nipples now level with his navel?"

Tara couldn't help it. She burst out laughing. "God, you are something else. He's not that bad looking, you know."

"Really? I don't see it. I mean, please explain to me how you can go from all this," Jax waved at himself. "To that. That's like leaving steak at home to go out for a burger at McDonald's."

As he had intended, Tara laughed again, which lightened her mood considerably and opened her up to talking.

"Damn, I forgot how big your ego is, Teller. Not everyone can be a sexy outlaw biker." Tara sighed. "Actually, it wasn't so bad at first. He was working on a case in South Chicago. The ATF raided a huge warehouse used to house guns and there had been a shoot out. He had escorted several suspects with GSWs to Chicago Presbyterian and we kind of struck up a conversation. He seemed, oh, I don't know, nice. Unassuming. Humble, caring even."

"At first?" Jax asked.

"Yeah, at first." Tara replied. "But the more serious we became, the more possessive he got, constantly questioning everything I did. Where I was, who I was with, what I was doing. Then one day I said something he didn't like, and he—"

"Hit you." Jax concluded.

Tara nodded. "Yeah. He apologized, said it would never happen again, but—"

"It did."

"Yeah. I was afraid I'd end up dead and no one would give a shit. He said as much, on more than one occasion. As a federal agent, he knew all the right people and all he had to do to cover up an 'unfortunate accident' was make a phone call. I believed him and it scared the shit out of me. I was a nervous wreck all the time and it was starting to affect my work, so I finally broke it off with him. That's when he started stalking me. I went to his superiors, but that only made matters worse." Tara explained bitterly. "I had to go to three different precincts before somebody would give me a restraining order. When he made it quite clear that a piece of paper wouldn't protect me, I decided to come back to Charming. I thought if I fell off the radar, he would just get over it and move on. I never really thought—no, I hoped, that he wasn't so sick as to come after me. For chrissakes, I'm not anyone special."

Jax shook his head. "Tara, guys like this, they don't ever give up. If he came all the way to Charming, he's not going to give up now. I don't want you to worry because I'm not going to let this asshole use his badge to prey on you." He stood up. Reaching for her upturned face, Jax stroked her cheek with his thumb before bending over and pressing a kiss on her forehead. "And you're wrong, you know. You are and have always been very special."

Tara managed to catch her breath as she tried to mask how seriously that little piece of Intel and the tender kiss that had preceded it affected her. Standing up just as Jax reached the front door, Tara hurried and gently grabbed his kutte from the back to get his attention. "Jax, what are you going to do?"

Pulling open the door, Jax paused and looked at her. "Whatever I have to."

* * *

Deputy Chief David Hale took a sip from his mug of coffee as he eyed the tall young blond biker who was storming towards him down the hallway. "You need to rein in your ATF boyfriend."

Over the past few months, Jax and he had been seriously butting heads. Refusing to work with SAMCRO like Chief Wayne Unser, Hale had made it very clear that he would not run interference for the Club and would, in fact, do whatever needed to be done in order to get the Club out of Charming and behind bars. He had been very helpful to Agent June Stahl in her efforts to trap the Club, but since Opie's death and Stahl's expulsion from Charming, Hale had managed to stay out of the Club's line of fire.

Until now.

Hale crossed his arms. "Agent Kohn is not on my payroll and I do not keep tabs on him."

"Well, maybe you should since he's not here for SAMCRO." Jax proclaimed angrily. "He's here for _Tara_."

Hale noted the combative stance of a very pissed off biker. "What the hell are you talking about, Jax?"

"He's been stalking her. He followed her here from Chicago. Thinks she came here to be with me. I'm telling you, he's gonna hurt her."

Hale sighed and rubbed his hand over his head. " _That's_ who she had a R.O. against?"

"You knew?" Jax asked incredulously. "And you didn't do shit to help her?"

"No, I didn't know. Tara never gave me a name, but it makes perfect sense now. Kohn was very cooperative in working with Stahl against you. I thought he had a hard-on for the Club. Probably still does, but obviously Tara is the smoking gun in all of this." Hale eyed the raging biker. "Look, Kohn is _my_ problem and _I_ will handle it."

Jax pointed a finger at him, his nostrils flared. "You better, or I'm gonna."

* * *

Donna was just putting the large bowl of popcorn on the coffee table when the door bell rang. "I wonder who that is."

"I sure hope it's not Grandma again." Kenny all but whined. "Three hours a day is enough as it is."

"Kenny, don't you be disrespectful." His mother reached out and gave his ear a good tweak. "Your grandmother loves you." She called out as she headed towards the door.

Kenny looked to his sister for some empathy as he rubbed his ear. "I know, but sometimes she can be a real pain in the butt." He whispered.

"Yeah, but maybe you should keep that to yourself." Ellie admonished. "Mom has enough problems to deal with."

Looking through the peephole, Donna grinned as her heart gave a little leap in her chest. "Well, look whose sorry ass is on my doorstep." She said as she threw open the front door.

"Hey, Don." Jax smiled broadly as he reached for Donna, pulling the petite woman in for a hug. "How ya been?"

"I'm good. I'm surprised to see you here in the middle of the week. You usually show up on Saturday mornings begging for a meal and eating me out of house and home."

"And I'll prolly show up this Saturday too, but this time around I thought I would drop by to extend an invitation instead."

"Mom!" Kenny hollered. "The movie is starting!"

"Okay, I'll be there in a minute!" Donna cocked her head towards the living room. "Batman's on the tube tonight and Kenny's a little anxious. What's this about an invitation?" She turned her attention back to Jax and eyed him warily.

"Well, first, I got some good news." Jax grinned. "Abel's being discharged on Saturday."

"Oh my God! That's fantastic news, Jax! Your Mom must be doing back flips down Main Street."

"Practically. We're going to have a welcome home party for him Saturday at my house and—" Jax saw the "look" briefly cross Donna's face. "Now come on, Don. You can't say no."

Donna sighed. "I don't know, Jax. You know how I feel about hanging out with the Club. I mean, me and the kids haven't been around for years, especially after Ope got sent away." She swallowed the lump in her throat. "My first time back in the Clubhouse after so many years was the night Ope got shot." She whispered.

"Aw shit, Donna." Jax slapped his forehead. "I'm a fuckin' moron for not even thinking about that. I'm sorry." He grimaced. "Abel coming home, it's a big deal and I just wanted you and the kids there with me, but I totally understand if you can't come."

The earnest, almost pleading look in his eyes was breaking her heart. _For a man so totally surrounded by Club brothers and hang-arounds, he sure does seem so lost and lonely._

"Look," Donna put her hand on his bare arm. "Let me think about it, get used to the idea, okay?"

"A'ight, darlin'. I better let you get back to Kenny before he has a fit." Turning around a few steps down the walkway, Jax got a good look at Donna as she stood in her doorway. "I promise, if you come I'll make sure you have a really good time." He called out to her with a wink and a smile.

* * *


	7. Welcome Home Abel

 

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy.**

* * *

Having been to two toy stores already, this one in Stockton was her last hope. Following the directions of the sales person, Donna headed up the aisle checking out the toys on the shelves hoping to find what she was looking for.

Having wrestled with Jax's invitation for several days, Donna had finally decided to take the kids to Abel's welcome home party. It hadn't been an easy decision to make and she had only let herself cave because of her feelings for Jax. He was her friend—probably the only one she had—and he was good to her and the kids. It was obvious how much he wanted them there and, if Opie had been alive, there was no doubt in her mind that the Winston family would have attended, in spite of whatever misgivings she may have had.

Knowing that this would be a special day for both Jax and Abel, Donna decided to view it as a family function and not as a Club-sponsored event. She had yet to see Abel Teller in the flesh as visitors were restricted to just immediate family. This would be the first time she would get to witness Jax not as an outlaw biker, but as a loving father and, if that was the case, the pros for her to attend certainly outweighed the cons.

Having already loaded up on tons of baby gear in the form of clothing for Abel to grow into, Donna was now on the hunt for a gift to come from Ellie and Kenny and her kids had been pretty specific about what they wanted for their Uncle Jax's new son. Suddenly coming to a dead stop, Donna's big blue eyes rounded as they landed on the very item she was looking for. Picking up several different toys, Donna grinned.

_Jax is gonna love these!_

* * *

"PFFFFT!"

"Damn, little man. That was a big one." Jax grinned as he flipped his son away from his shoulder and back into the crook of his arm. In Jax's mind, it was nothing short of a miracle at how quickly he had grown accustomed to feeding and burping his son. Placing the now empty bottle on the table next to him, Jax smiled down as Abel quite happily cooed and kicked his feet out against his father's tight abs. "Whoa, there, buddy. I don't think you're ready to take your old man on just yet. You might wanna pace yourself 'cause I gotta warn ya, it won't be a fair fight."

"Not afraid to take on a younger man, are you, Teller?" Jax looked up and found Tara standing next to him. He had been so enthralled with his son's antics that he never even heard her enter the nursery.

"Hey, Doc." Standing up, he grinned down at Tara. "I'm _never_ afraid of a little competition, darlin'. I might even let him win our first tussle."

"I'm willing to bet that _letting_ him win won't even be an option. If he's inherited just a drop of that legendary Teller ego, he'll be ready to take you on as soon as he starts walking and talking." Tara teased with a huge smile.

"Feeling a little cheeky, huh, Doc?" Jax snarked. Suddenly sobering up, he looked Tara in the eye as he softly jiggled his son. "That's a good sign. How are you holding up? Everything else quiet down for you?"

Tara sighed. "I assume you're referring to my ATF shadow?" She asked and Jax nodded. "So far, so good. Whatever you said must have scared him away for good. No more rose petals or sick photos, so thank you once again." She smiled.

"No sweat." Jax smiled back. "I also spoke to Hale." He announced as Tara's eyes widened. "Tara, he needed to know about Kohn being the asshole you have the R.O. against. If ever I'm not around, out of town on a run or something, and this Kohn guy shows up, do not hesitate to contact Hale." Jax saw her dark green eyes cloud up. "Hey, I don't want you worrying about this, a'ight? It's taken care of."

Tara took a deep breath and nodded. "Okay." She smiled and quickly moved to change the subject. "So are you ready for the big day tomorrow?"

Jax shrugged his shoulders and placed his suddenly sleeping son into his crib. "Honestly? I'm not so sure, but I'm excited as fuck." He turned to face Tara. "For a long time I was sure that he was never coming home. I have you and Dr. Namid to thank for making that happen for us."

Tara blushed as she placed a hand on his arm. "I'm just glad I was able to do my part to help him. He's a special little boy. A real fighter."

"Yeah, he is." Jax grinned proudly. "You know, we're having a get-together to welcome him home tomorrow night. I really would like it if you were there because he wouldn't be without you."

"Oh, Jax, I don't know." Tara bit her lip. "I mean, I don't think Gemma would want me—" She started, but Jax interrupted her.

Wrapping both arms around the suddenly-startled doctor and pulling her close to him, Tara felt as if she were unable to breathe as she looked up into Jax's deep blue eyes. "Fuck that, Tara. Ma may still be carrying leftover angst from our teenage days, but she really appreciates what you've done for her grandson. It wouldn't be as special for me without you there. Please?"

Tara swallowed the lump in her throat, her heart beating rapidly. "Okay," She whispered. "I'd love to come."

"Good." Unexpectedly, instead of pulling away, Jax found himself resting his forehead against Tara's. The simple action of being this close again seemed so familiar and peaceful. Knowing those days were long behind them both, however, Jax raised his head. His intent was to place a brief kiss on her forehead, but as Tara raised her chin, Jax suddenly found his mouth pressed against hers.

Tara swallowed the gasp that she would have let out if the full, warm lips of the man she considered to be the love of her life were not locked on her own. Suddenly, the feelings and emotions that she had once experienced with Jax so many years ago came flooding back to the surface. With a little groan, Tara allowed her arms to slowly wrap around his neck so she could bury her hands in his hair, deepening their kiss.

_What the fuck am I doing_? Jax thought as he felt Tara's arms wrap around him. He hadn't meant to kiss her like this, but having done so, he couldn't bring himself to pull away now. Gently cradling her against him as he continued his assault on her senses, it was as if he and Tara were once again in a world of their own making.

But they weren't.

Standing in front of the nursery window, Wendy Teller looked on as the old high school sweethearts remained locked in a close embrace. Seeing her old man—the father of her son—tenderly kissing the woman who had saved the child she had almost killed, Wendy felt her world collapse as she turned around and stumbled away.

* * *

Bursting through the front door, Wendy found herself breathing almost uncontrollably as she walked across the short hallway to confront the Queen Mother of the Heir Apparent. After what she had just witnessed, Wendy was in a very bad place emotionally. Seeing her husband locked in an embrace with the woman responsible for saving Abel's life had not just thrown Wendy for a devastating loop, but it had finally opened her eyes as to what were Gemma's true intentions for grooming her into the perfect old lady for her son.

While not prepared to confront Jax about Tara, she couldn't let Gemma go on thinking she had fooled anyone. She had to know that even though she was manipulating the situation, she wasn't in control of it.

"I know what you're doing." Wendy accused as she threw her handbag onto the leather couch.

Standing on a stool as she pinned a baby blue banner that read "Welcome Home Abel" to the ceiling, Gemma looked over her shoulder and down to eye her visibly upset daughter-in-law. The angry, almost hurt emotion she could hear in the woman's voice had managed to cause the Queen of Charming a bit of a surprise. "I would think it was obvious. I'm hanging a banner."

"No, damn it! I'm not talking about a fuckin' banner! I'm talking about what you're doing with me. And Tara." Wendy shot back.

Gemma arched an eyebrow at the fervor in Wendy's voice. "And just what am I doing, sweetheart?" She asked calmly all the while wondering what damage control she would be doing in the very near future.

"Using me to try and keep her and Jax apart. I was so stupid, too! I should have known that you had an ulterior motive." Wendy threw her hands up as she paced around the living room in anger. "Asking me if I still loved Jax, if I still wanted to be with him, taking me shopping, giving me a makeover, and including me in planning Abel's nursery and this party—that was all about keeping me in Jax's orbit and Tara out of it, wasn't it?" She finally whirled back to face her mother-in-law.

Part of Wendy was hoping that the Queen would deny it. That maybe on some level Gemma was helping her because she had forgiven her for what she done to her grandson and cared enough about her to at least help her keep her family together. But the callousness with which Gemma delivered her next words, however, was enough to convince Wendy that she had only been fooling herself.

Gemma chuckled wryly, acknowledging the truth of Wendy's words. "It doesn't matter _why_ I did it. It doesn't change a damn thing. I still meant everything I said, so what do you care what my motives are? You'll still get the thing that you want the most. And so will I."

Wendy's heart sank in her chest. She swallowed the lump in her throat. "You know, I was okay with you slipping me enough crank to kill a horse. Because of what I did to Abel, I deserved that. But I am _not_ the same person I was four months ago and I can't be a part of this. You are playing with people's lives, Gemma!"

"Bullshit! I'm protecting the innocent," Gemma retorted. "And if I step on a few toes in the process, so be it."

Wendy slumped down onto the sofa and looked up as Gemma continued to work on the banner. "You really believe that, don't you?" She replied bleakly.

"So what if I do? You're out of your fuckin' mind if you think that putting down that needle for a few months somehow gives you the right to judge me. You better take a good, long look at yourself, sweetheart, 'cause you're burning a hole through the very thing you can't wait to become. Maybe that's why you hate yourself so much."

Gemma finished adjusting the banner and got down off the stool to face the younger woman. "The reality is that you messed up with Jax big time and I'm giving you the opportunity to rectify that mistake—to get your husband and your baby back. As much as I love my son, he can't see the truth of his situation right now and that truth is that Tara Knowles is not the woman for him. She wasn't any good for him ten years ago and she's no good for him now."

"That's not a choice you get to make." Wendy argued.

"The hell it isn't!" Gemma sat down in a chair opposite Wendy and crossed her legs. Grabbing her handbag from the coffee table, she dug for her pack of cigarettes and lit one up, blowing out a trail of blue smoke. "The one thing that you have never been able to understand about an old lady's role in this Club—because you spent most of your marriage to my son tweaking—is that SAMCRO is the glue that keeps all of our families together and that behind every strong patch is an even stronger old lady.

"One day, my son will be at the head of the table and I need to know that the woman standing behind him can give him the support he needs. And what he needs is an old lady that can handle this Life—the good, the bad and the downright ugly because sometimes the brotherhood won't be enough to keep him together." Gemma explained. "I respect Tara for what she's accomplished in her life, what she's done for my grandson, but that's where it ends. She may deal with life and death on a daily basis down at St. Thomas, but she doesn't have what it takes to hold shit together when things go sideways in the Clubhouse. She never did. Wearing his crow made her no more a proper old lady than that wedding ring you're sporting made you a proper wife. The difference between the two of you is that she will never learn from her mistakes. Tara didn't love the Club then and she sure as shit don't love it now. She doesn't see that Jax _is_ SAMCRO and you can't love the man without loving the Club. Tara and Jax are two different people now and any hope she may have of getting back together with my son will not end well." Gemma concluded.

_So in the meantime, I have to make do with you._

"I don't think Tara would agree with you," Wendy whispered. "And neither would Jax, for that matter."

Gemma narrowed her eyes. "What happened? Why would you say that?"

Wendy chuckled bitterly. "Because I saw the two of them at the hospital today. Together. And they weren't just talking."

_Shit!_ Gemma unintentionally crushed her lit cigarette in half. She had been afraid of something like this happening. Afraid that the doctor bitch would use her ties to Abel to get her hooks in her vulnerable son. She knew that once they started taking a trip down memory lane that Jax would get lost, focusing on what they once had, not realizing that that shit had never really been real.

Gemma leaned forward as she bore a hole into her daughter-in-law. "Then I suggest you find a way to change Jax's mind. Otherwise, not only will you lose your husband to the good doctor, but you'll lose your son, too."

* * *

Donna could hear the music as she turned up the block.

"Boy, it's really jumping, huh, Ma?" Kenny exclaimed from the passenger seat.

"Yeah. Sounds pretty intense for a baby's welcome home party, though." Donna eyed her daughter through the rearview mirror and noted her anxious expression. "You okay back there, honey?"

"I'm fine, Mom. I just hope Uncle Jax likes the gift you picked out from me and Kenny." Ellie replied placing her hand on one of the two gift-wrapped boxes sitting next to her.

"Uncle Jax is gonna think it's totally cool." Kenny enthused. "Way cooler than a bunch of baby clothes."

"I'm sure Jax will appreciate all of the gifts little Abel is getting tonight." Donna replied as she angled her small sedan into a parking space halfway down Jax's block. Grabbing the large container of double nut fudge brownies from Kenny's lap, they all exited the car together and slammed the doors shut. Unwilling to play the game of twenty questions she would have undoubtedly been dragged into had she called the SAMCRO Matriarch to ask what she should bring, Donna opted to make one of Jax's favorites.

_And not only because he loves them so much_ , Donna tried to convince herself. _But because I just can't show up empty-handed_.

Making their way through the line of parked bikes and cars, the Winston family went up the walkway to the Teller home. With the sun starting to set, the sky was slightly dusky with hints of mauve and orange, but Jax's small home was lit up with what seemed like every light in the house. Taking a deep breath, Donna rang the doorbell and it was summarily snatched open.

"Well, uh, hey, shit." Tig almost stammered as he eyed Opie Winston's petite wife and her two kids hovering behind her. "Donna, it's real nice seeing ya." Opening the door wide, he gestured. "C'mon in. Everybody's inside."

Donna nodded and quickly grabbed her children and inched by the tall crazy-eyed man who was the Club's SAA. While she kept pretty much out of the Club scene, she knew enough about its hierarchy to know that Tig Trager was not a man to be messed with.

Walking into the non-existent foyer, Donna looked around the Teller living room, which was packed wall-to-wall with people—patches with their old ladies and their families. The children were running in and through the tiny space and out the patio doors leading to the backyard. It was all just a bit too intimidating to be there without Opie.

"I shouldn't have come." Donna murmured to herself. _I should just drop off the brownies and the gifts and split. I can always take the kids to a movie._

Just as Donna was making a move in that direction, a familiar voice called to her. "Hey sweetie! Gem didn't tell me you were coming." Luann Delaney said warmly as Donna suddenly found herself wrapped in an armful of blond extensions and unbelievably firm and perky boobs.

"Hey, Luann," She replied sheepishly. "It's nice to see you. Actually, Jax invited me and the kids to stop by. I guess he forgot to mention it to Gemma."

Big Otto's old lady literally towered over Donna in four-inch Jimmy Choos and laughed uproariously. She was not known at all for being discreet. Having endured over 25 years in the porn business, the last ten of which she spent as the principal owner and producer of Cara Cara Productions, had allowed the woman to develop a no-holds barred approach to telling it like it is. "Well, it's good that he did. Invite you and didn't tell Gemma, that is." She winked at the astonished woman. "I love Gem, but sometimes she gets just a little too territorial. I mean, I get it as she's the SAMCRO Queen and all, but sometimes she takes herself just a little too seriously."

_Uh, ya think_?

Luann continued to greet Donna's children. "Look guys, there's a table over in the corner for the gifts. Why don't you put what you have over there and join the other kids in the backyard? There's plenty of snacks and soda outside."

"Can we, Mom?" Kenny said excitedly.

Realizing that her attempted getaway had been foiled even before it had began, Donna nodded reluctantly. "Go ahead, but keep an eye on your sister, Kenny."

"Hey! I'm older. Why does _he_ have to look after _me_?" Ellie complained, but was promptly dragged off by her brother.

"Kids." Luann laughed. "Every time I think me and Otto should have had some, I get reminded why I'm glad we didn't." Wrapping an arm around Donna shoulders, she dragged the woman to the kitchen. "So let's go have some fun and beard the Queen lioness in her den." She cackled.

_She has absolutely no idea_ , Donna thought.

* * *

Gemma was directing one of the old ladies when she got an unexpected surprise.

"Hey," Luann crowed. "Look who showed up to the party bearing gifts."

Donna wanted to sink through the floor as the entire room of old ladies turned around to get a look at the newcomer. In turn, Gemma was glad that she had just handed off a plate of sliced turkey when she saw Donna standing in Luann's embrace.

"Well, this _is_ certainly a surprise." As a chorus of hellos were offered from the group of worker-bee old ladies, Gemma walked over to the younger woman. Taking the container of brownies Donna was holding and passing it to the old lady standing behind her, Gemma gave Donna a brief hug. "It's been a while since we've seen you and the kids. How are you doing?"

_And why are you here_? Gemma wondered.

Donna looked directly into Gemma's dark eyes. "The kids and I are okay, all things considered." Donna moistened her lips. "Jax stopped by earlier this week to check on the kids, invited us to come by for Abel's homecoming. I hope you don't mind."

"Of course not, sweetheart. You're family. Always have been. I'm just glad you decided to come." Gemma replied.

Seeing that Gemma had decided on being civil, Donna allowed herself to relax. She wasn't sure what reaction she had expected from the Biker Queen, but if Gemma had chosen to get out of line because Jax had invited her without her knowledge or approval, Donna was sure she would not have hesitated to lose her shit in front of everyone. Although Donna was sure that it would have been immensely satisfying, it also would have cast a shadow over Abel's homecoming.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" Donna asked.

Luann cackled. "Now here I was thinking you were the smart one for keeping yourself out of Club life. Instead, you willingly volunteer to become my lady's handmaiden. Well, that's good for me, I guess, because you can take over my job cutting up salad with Wendy." Luann shoved Donna over to the counter towards the other woman. "I'm going on break." Luann gleefully directed at Gemma as she sashayed out of the kitchen and over to the mini-bar run by one of the Prospects for a glass of wine.

"Bitch!" Gemma called out exasperatedly before turning to face the rest of her unpaid kitchen labor. "And don't think that any of you bitches are getting off too." She eyed everyone with a hard look. "Everybody get back to work. And you," She nodded at Donna. "Help Wendy finish that salad. We're leaving in ten minutes to get Abel."

"Yes, ma'am." Donna replied under her breath. Rolling her eyes behind Gemma's back, she headed towards the sink to wash her hands before reporting to Wendy Teller for salad duty.

Wendy offered her a soft grin as she nudged her head in Gemma's direction. "Congratulations. It looks like you survived the first assault." She whispered.

Donna met Wendy's knowing eyes. "Yeah, but I probably shouldn't sleep on her and prepare for a sneak attack from the rear with that one." She mumbled as she picked up a knife lying on one of the cutting boards and started slicing cucumbers.

"Too true. No one ever gets off that easy with Mother Gemma." Donna noted the slightly hard edge to Wendy's tone of voice.

"Never mind her. Right now, the most important thing is that Abel's coming home." Donna commented.

Wendy nodded as she added her pile of sliced tomatoes to the large salad bowl. "You're right. It's a miracle he survived, no thanks to me." Wendy avoided Donna's gaze. "I know that on some level that's what everyone here is thinking. In spite of that, they're still being nice to me, so I guess that's something, right?"

Donna put a hand on the woman's shoulder. "If there's one thing I've come to understand about making mistakes it's that you can't undo them. All you can do is promise to do better going forward. Remembering that is pretty much the only way I keep from losing it with my own situation."

Wendy sighed. "I'm so sorry. I must seem like a real bitch moaning about my own shit. Sometimes I get so wrapped up wallowing in self-pity that I forget that others might be going through worse. How are your kids dealing with—" Wendy trailed off.

"Losing their Dad?" Donna nodded. "One day at a time."

"Well, Queen Gemma is right about one thing. SAMCRO is a big family. I love Jax and my son and even though I may not always appreciate all aspects of my family, it's better than doing without any family at all."

"I am so glad to hear that you finally understand that." Both women jumped as Gemma's voice echoed over them. Whirling around, they saw the matriarch suspiciously eying them, her leather jacket on and her slouchy hobo bag draped over her shoulder. "But the time for whispered chitchat is over. Wendy, it's time to go get your son. The rest of you keep going because we'll be back with Jax and my grandson in an hour. I want dinner ready to be served as soon as I step through the front door." Gemma ordered.

Donna put her hand over her rapidly beating heart. "Damn!" She whispered. "Someone needs to put a bell around her neck."

As Wendy snorted with laughter, Gemma's voice rang out. "I fuckin' heard that!"

* * *

"Well, what have we here?"

Donna looked up from placing a large aluminum pan of sliced honey and pineapple glazed ham on the already-crowded buffet table as she heard a familiar and gruff-sounding voice.

"Hi, Dad." Donna smiled as Piney Winston reached out and wrapped his arms around his daughter-in-law and gave her a bear-sized hug.

"I didn't know you were coming tonight." Piney said.

"Neither did I. That is, Gemma didn't mention you were coming." Hearing _that_ voice, Donna looked up while still in her father-in-law's embrace to meet the steely blue eyes of Clay Morrow.

"I think Jax may have forgotten to mention it to her. It's nice to see you, Clay." Donna responded.

_Okay, that's probably a stretch_ , she thought.

Looking at the SAMCRO President, it suddenly hit Donna like a ton of bricks that Clay was the reason why she had been so uneasy about coming to Abel's party. Even though Donna couldn't say that he was the most attractive man she had ever met, there was no doubt that Clay had a certain appeal. He had an almost debonair, gentlemanly air of charisma about him. A commanding presence, if you will, that was so obviously manifest about him, but that didn't do much to hide the fact that Clay Morrow had a propensity for ruthlessness in how he lived his life and how he ran his Club.

For regardless of what was generally believed, Donna had a feeling that Clay Morrow _was_ the Club.

"Well," Clay drawled. "It's real good having you here. I'm sure Jax will appreciate you turning out to welcome his boy home." Nodding at both Piney and Donna, Clay headed towards the bar to get himself a drink.

Piney's eyes narrowed as he felt his tense daughter-in-law suddenly relax in his arms.

"You all right, little girl?" Piney asked, calling Donna by his pet name for her.

Donna brushed off his concern with a bright smile. "I'm fine. It's just a little . . . weird being here. Without Ope, I mean."

"I know, but it's real good that you came. Opie would want you to be here. Never doubt that."

"I don't." Donna nodded. "I need to get back to the kitchen. Kenny and Ellie are in the backyard. You should go say hi."

Watching Donna head back into the kitchen, Piney's eyes narrowed as he took a hit of oxygen.

_Forgive me if I don't believe ya, girlie, but there's more than doubt written all over your face._

* * *

Donna stood in the sidelines watching as the newest Prince of Charming was being passed around. Having arrived a couple of hours before, Jax and his son had been welcomed with resounding cheers and open arms. Donna smirked as she realized that Gemma was in her element as the new grandma and had managed to steal no little amount of thunder away from Abel's mother.

Donna had to admit that she was not quite sure of what Wendy's role to Jax was. Even though Wendy had not left Jax's side ever since they had arrived with their son, it appeared to Donna that there was a measure of distance between the couple. It wasn't as if Jax were being unkind to her, but if he still harbored any feelings for the mother of his son, it wasn't clearly evident to Donna.

Donna was so busy mulling over her thoughts that she was quite literally taken by surprise when she suddenly found her arms full of sweet smelling baby. "I think it's about time that Abel met his kick-ass Aunt." Jax teased his best friend's wife.

"Yeah, I am gonna kick your ass later for scaring the shit out of me. Again." Donna retorted as she looked into Abel's deep blue eyes. "Oh my God, he's beautiful. Damn, Jax. Is there anything of this child's mother in him?"

"Nope, I'm afraid he's all Teller." Jax grinned proudly. Wrapping an arm around Donna's shoulder, he grinned down at the two of them. "I'm really glad you came, Don." He said pressing a kiss on her temple as she continued cooing and babbling at the sweet-tempered baby in her arms.

"I couldn't miss this." She replied, glad she had stayed after all. "I just had to see for myself if the son's as pretty-looking as his daddy. God help your poor old lady. Wendy's gonna have her hands full trying to keep a condom on him by the time he turns twelve."

Jax brow suddenly scrunched up. "Wendy?" He asked a little confused.

"Oh, I'm sorry." Donna looked at the outlaw biker, his arm still wrapped around her shoulders. "I just kinda assumed—"

"Nah, its okay, Don." Jax laughed a little self-consciously. "I just haven't been thinking that far ahead into the future. Wendy and I," He continued. "We're not really sure what the future has in store for us."

Now it was Donna's turn to quirk an eyebrow. _That's not the impression I got from Wendy_ , she thought, but wisely didn't say so out loud.

"It's early days yet, right?" She tore her eyes away from the gorgeous baby in her arms to his gorgeous father just a breath away.

Jax's eyes searched Donna's face, wondering why they kept falling to her lips. "Right." Jax finally agreed. "Early days."

* * *

_Okay, somebody needs to clue me in, because I'm not sure what's going on_.

It was getting late and Donna was starting to think that she and the kids had spent a socially-acceptable amount of time hanging out at Abel's party. In spite of her initial reservations, however, she was actually enjoying herself and decided to stay a little longer.

Donna had spent the majority of the evening in the company of Luann and a few other old ladies. After completing their duties in the kitchen and serving dinner, the Queen had graciously released them from pulling clean up detail. Instead, she had placed a call to the Clubhouse and had a couple of sweetbutts come over to deal with the dirty work in the kitchen.

After spending time doting over Abel, the women took up residence in a quiet corner of the living room and got down to the real business of old ladies at one of these events: sharing Intel currently churning on the MC's gossip mill. Sitting back and nursing a glass of wine Luann had shoved into her hand, Donna participated only as far as listening to and observing the other old ladies was concerned. Hearing some of the rumors and stories floating around Redwood and other charters, Donna realized that, even though the Club was strictly outlaw, when it came to the often mundane and personal matters of its members, living the Life often resembled a daytime soap opera.

Donna was pretty sure that her own situation had kept the Old Lady Gossip Mill quite well-fed for over five years. Most recently, there had been Opie's death and the fact that Donna had pretty much reverted back to her MIA status full-time now that he was gone.

Donna knew that, even before those recent events, some of the old ladies sitting with her right now had made pointed remarks about Jax exercising the "prison clause" while Opie was in Chino. Donna could only assume that that very juicy, but inaccurate, bit of gossip had never reached Gemma's ears or she probably would have been gutted like a fish by the Queen years ago.

Donna laughed softly to herself as she took a sip of her Pinot Noir. Barely a year ago, these heifers had all but called her out and slapped an "A" on her chest for spending time with her husband's best friend while Opie had been in prison.

_And it wouldn't have stood for "Anarchy" either_ , Donna thought bitterly. _If they had any idea that Jax has been hanging around my house every Saturday morning for the last couple of months, they'd probably think I was poaching all over Wendy's property_.

As Wendy was still Jax's old lady, Donna's name would be mud if there was even a hint of a rumor that she and Jax were hooking up on the regular. Not that Donna gave a shit anyway. The convoluted rules that the Club's old ladies set for themselves or adhered to sometimes made absolutely no sense to her. An old lady was expected to fake ignorance when it came to her man's infidelities while on runs, but God help any old lady who saw fit to share her lady bits with anyone other than her old man. Sweetbutts and croweaters had a purpose and a place in the biker world and were to be tolerated in the Clubhouse. As long as none of the Club whores stepped out of line or disrespected an old lady because she had been with her old man, old ladies had no choice but to turn a blind eye.

With the appearance of a former old lady on the scene, the Old Lady Gossip Mill kicked into high gear the moment Dr. Tara Knowles arrived.

Donna was the first in her group to notice Tara's arrival. The quiet and somewhat demure woman—something that was unheard of in a Club full of rough and tough old ladies—entered the house and placed her handbag on the railing above the couch that served as a makeshift bar. Donna kept an eye on the woman wondering when someone else in the group would notice her.

Suddenly, as Jax emerged from the kitchen with his son in tow and Abel's supper in hand, Donna saw the doctor's face light up and watched as she walked over to greet her ex. Seeing Jax's look of pleasure splashed across his face when he spotted Tara, Donna watched with growing astonishment as he hugged her warmly.

"Oh shit!" Luann exclaimed as her tipsy director's eye had finally honed in on the couple. "What the hell is _she_ doing here?"

"I don't know," Maggie, an old lady for nearly 25 years, replied. "But she better get her ass out of here quick before Gemma sees her."

"Yeah, otherwise one of the Prospects will be taking a ride out to the desert tonight to bury the body." Cheryl snarked, another old lady veteran. Everyone, except Donna, burst out laughing.

_I may not have been overly fond of her in the past, but Tara has my sympathy tonight_ , Donna thought.

"Too late now." Rosie, a cute and naturally blond-haired newbie old lady with barely a nickel under her belt, chimed in. "The Queen has spotted her prey."

"I can't say I blame Gemma. That chick left town so fast she left a trail of smoke behind her a mile long." Luann responded, her eyes avidly watching Gemma's slightly chilly reception. "Jax was good to her. I don't get why she ran out on the patch next in line for the gavel. Life with the Prince had to be a hell of a lot better than life with her drunk and crazy daddy."

"Is it really that hard to figure out? Jax is a package deal. Hook up with him and you're gonna have to put up with Gemma." Maggie said derisively. As the other old ladies eyed each other over the woman's boldness, she shrugged her shoulders. "Hey, I like Gemma, but she's a pretty big pill for any young girl to swallow as a future mother-in-law."

"Yeah, and it looks like she _still_ hasn't warmed up to the bitch. Look at the cold shoulder she's giving her. You can see it from here." Cheryl added.

"Well, it looks like the girl has a little back bone." Rosie observed. "She's not letting herself get chased off."

Donna noted that despite Gemma's cold reception, Tara made herself comfortable, sitting next to Jax and Abel on the couch.

"Well, isn't that cozy?" Cheryl said cattily. "And look, I'm thinking Jax's old lady ain't too happy about her hanging around either. I know wouldn't be."

Donna had to agree. Wendy's arms were crossed over her chest, and the tight-lipped expression on her face spoke volumes. She was watching from the kitchen doorway as Tara played with Abel while Jax held him in his arms. Donna could see the green-eyed monster rearing its ugly head from where she sat, noting just what an appealing picture Jax and Tara made with Abel.

And Donna wasn't sure why the picture bothered her too, but it did.

"Uh, oh," Luann murmured. "It's about to hit the fan now."

"Holy shit!" Maggie said gleefully. "Looks like the Good Doc is putting in her bid to be Jax's old lady again."

Donna watched as Tara leaned in to Jax and nearly sucked the tongue out of his head.

_What the fuck_? Donna thought, flabbergasted. Jax abruptly pulled away from Tara and Donna, feeling like a mean girl, couldn't help but smile as she noted the dazed and not necessarily happy expression on Jax's face.

"I can't believe the crank whore—" Rosie began.

"Ex-crank whore." Luann corrected.

" _Ex-_ crank whore ain't doing shit to put that bitch in her place." Rosie finished.

"Yep. That's kinda weak." Maggie chimed in. "The doctor may have been with Jax once upon a time, but that was years ago. She's disrespecting his old lady in her own damn house. I may not care for Wendy, but that shit ain't right."

"Heh, heh." Cheryl chuckled salaciously. "Whether or not its right, looks like the Prince is ready to push up on that." She commented said as they all watched Jax hand his son over to Bobby Elvis. Getting up from the sofa, Jax pulled his former old lady up from her seat and down the hall to one of the bedrooms.

Maggie was watching it play out, her mouth agape. "He's gonna tap that ass right here under his old lady's nose on a day like today? A patch with balls that big must have a dick to match!"

"Lucky bitch!" Luann cackled.

"Can you blame him? The expiration date on his old lady is long overdue. What man, even a patch, wouldn't want a doctor instead of a former junky show girl?" Cheryl said derisively.

"I think you're wrong, Cheryl." In unison, the group of women turned to face Donna. "It looks to me like Jax was a little upset about the Doc making a move like that in front of everybody."

"Ten bucks says your wrong." Rosie eyed the petite widow. _You know, she's not as stuck up as I thought._

"I'll take some of that action. Put me down for twenty." Maggie snarked. "I'm good for it."

Luann shook her head. "I'll take some of that action too, but I'm siding with Donna."

Suddenly, the women gaped as they saw Tara bolt down the hallway, grabbing her purse from the bar and heading out, slamming the door behind her. Not five seconds later, Jax reappeared with what looked like a bright red mark on his face and a pissed and confused look to go along with it.

"Hah! Pay up, bitches! Donna was right after all. He sent her packing." Luann crowed.

"I can't believe I just saw what I saw. I was sure he was gonna hit that." Rosie moaned as she dug around in her purse for her wallet.

"Well, it's probably a good thing anyway. Gemma would not be too happy if those two reunited." Luann advised.

"Like Jax needs permission from his mommy to take on whoever he wants as his next old lady. He's a fuckin' patch, for chrissake's." Maggie said sardonically. "He may have a lot of respect for his mother, but he's a man all the same. One day he will put the Queen in her place." She predicted. "It's just a matter of time."

Donna thought that the older woman was probably right. She had known Jax for a long time, but with the recent changes in his life—losing his best friend, becoming a father—she wouldn't be surprised if he started relying less on his mother and more on himself. And after what she had just witnessed, Donna would be surprised if either Wendy or Tara were seriously in the running for the top spot as Jax's old lady. From what little she did know about both women, they were _both_ weak.

_And whoever ends up with Jax is gonna have to have a serious set of stones to contend with Queen Gemma._

* * *

"Boy, what the fuck just happened?" Bobby chuckled as Jax sat down next to him on the couch, and willingly relinquished his hold on Jax's son.

"Bobby, your guess is as good as mine because I'm not sure I really know." Jax sighed.

"You must have done something, lover boy, which would explain why you're wearing somebody's handprint on your face right now." Bobby grinned. "Did you have something to say that ignited the good doctor's temper?"

"Yeah, something like that."

"Well, don't turn around, son, but she's not the only broad lookin' a little pissed off at you right now. Your mother and soon-to-be ex have been staring daggers at you since the good doctor showed up. Now that she's gone, you might wanna start damage control and get your ass out of the doghouse."

Jax shook his head as he looked Bobby in the eye. "I didn't do shit."

" _Really_?" Bobby rolled out the word. "So sucking the tongue out of your former old lady's head in front of her replacement _and_ your mother—who has hated the Doc since day one—seemed like a good idea to you?"

"What? You didn't see what happened, old man? _Tara kissed me_ , not the other way around." Jax defended himself.

"She must have thought she had good reason to lay one on ya." Bobby replied. "Did _you_ give her a good reason?"

Jax sighed, rubbing the hair on his chin. "Maybe," He mumbled, thinking about their encounter at the hospital the day before. That had certainly been a bone-headed move on his part. As if he didn't have enough on his plate to deal with, why not throw yet _another_ woman in the mix looking to stake a claim?

Seeing the young man look so forlorn and put upon while holding his son, Bobby decided to cut him some slack and end the ribbing. "Look, I'm sorry. I shouldn't be busting your chops, but you'd think that someone as smart as you would've learned his lesson by now. Women are God's most beautiful creation, brother, but the majority of them are bat-shit crazy." As Jax snorted, Bobby continued. "That's why I've got two divorces under my belt and the reason I have two is because I don't want _three_. Maybe you need to do the same brother."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean you need to try and keep your head above water and not let these women mess with your head. You've got two old ladies—a former and a soon-to-be ex—yanking on your jock, your son just got out of the hospital. With Opie gone and the Club and Clay pulling at you, maybe you need to try and focus on one thing at a time. Try and figure shit out first. You're about to free yourself of one old lady. Don't rush and hook up with the next. You have Abel to consider now and not just any old lady can be a mother for your son."

Jax rubbed the bridge of his nose with his fingers and sighed. Looking at the bushy haired man sitting next to him, Jax smiled. "Thanks, old man."

"What for?"

"For always managing to say the shit I really need to hear when I need to hear it." Jax replied.

* * *

After only finishing half a glass of wine, Donna decided that it was time to call it a night. Falling back into Club life, even if for just a few hours, was a lot to take in all at once. While watching the antics between Gemma, Jax, Tara and Wendy had been a little entertaining, she couldn't help but be troubled by it as well. Even though Donna couldn't really put her finger on what it was that bothered her the most about the whole situation, all she knew was that it did.

Stepping out into the backyard, Donna called for her kids, who were currently engrossed in a board game with a group of other SAMCRO children under the light of several large lanterns. "Ellie, Kenny, it's time to go."

"Come on, Mom." Kenny whined. "Let us finish this round. I'm winning."

Donna sighed. "Okay, you got five minutes to wrap it up, sport."

"You know, he's a lot like his old man." The unexpected voice coming from the darkness behind her made Donna jump.

Clutching her hand to her heart, Donna turned to see the outline of a large man. It didn't take the flare from the lighter to illuminate his face as he lit his cigar for her to recognize Clay Morrow. He had a very distinctive voice.

"Sorry," Clay gave her a shit-eating grin. "I didn't mean to scare ya."

"That's okay." Donna sighed. She couldn't remember being this jumpy before, but was sure it was just an unhappy by-product of re-immersing herself in MC life, even if for just one night.

Clay strolled over and stood next to Donna, keeping his eyes focused on the group of children in the middle of their game as they laughed and argued amongst themselves. "I'm right, though. Young Kenny is a chip right off the old block."

"Yeah. I have to agree." Donna replied nostalgically as she eyed her growing son.

"You know, I never really had an opportunity to express to you on a personal level how much I miss Opie. He was a good brother and a good man."

"Yes, he was." Donna swallowed the sudden lump in her throat.

"Ope was loyal. He loved the charter and was loved by all of us, me especially." Clay said. "You might not know this, but I sponsored Ope when he prospected."

"No, I wasn't aware of that."

_Where is this conversation going_? Donna wondered.

"I know that there were times when it was hard for you, dealing with his commitment to the Club. That's why it's good to see you here with the kids tonight. SAMCRO takes care of its family."

"I appreciate you saying that." Deciding to take the bull by the horns, Donna licked her lips. "Jax hasn't shared any details, but he did assure me that on a Club level the person responsible for killing Opie is no longer an issue. The Club has my sincere gratitude for that."

Clay looked down at the small woman and nodded. "It's good that you know that. The cops sure as shit had no real interest in solving the case."

"I know. Opie was just another felon to them." Donna agreed. "A little part of me, though, doesn't feel that sense of closure that I probably would have gotten had the man responsible had been tried in court. I can't escape the nagging feeling of not really being sure that the right person really paid the price for robbing my family of a loving husband and father."

In the dark, Clay tensed at hearing Donna's words. He rolled his cigar between his thick fingers for a moment before he spoke.

"As someone older and wiser, I'd advise you to let go of that _nagging_ feeling, especially since Jax himself assured you that Ope has been avenged. No court of law was going to give you the kind of closure you need. Take it from me, there would be no satisfaction in knowing that Opie's murderer was rotting away in prison or on the row because everyday he lives is another day your old man doesn't." Clay advised. "Ultimately, all you need to know is that outlaw justice prevailed. You have a couple of wonderful kids, both who need their mom to be there for them, now more than ever. Allowing yourself to get twisted up about the fate of Opie's killer won't be healthy for you, mentally or physically. You need to focus all that energy on taking care of Ope's legacy, his children."

Clay spoke softly, with a great deal of concern and empathy in his voice, but even Donna could detect the slight hard edge in his voice. And she shivered.

"You're right." Donna conceded. "My focus needs to be on Ellie and Kenny's welfare."

"Good girl." Clay said as he placed an arm around her shoulder to give her a brief hug before heading back inside. That gesture, one that Jax had done on countless occasions and that had often made her feel warm and safe, Donna now found slightly repelling.

Calling to her children again, Donna gathered their belongings, said her goodbyes, and quickly headed towards her car. Getting into the driver's side, Donna rested her head on the steering wheel as she thought about her conversation with Clay Morrow. Donna was no fool. That was a subtle warning disguised as a friendly conversation.

_For the sake of my children, I'd better heed it and get my family out of Charming_.

* * *

Later that night, as he sat in his favorite chair in Gemma's greenhouse, Clay thought long and hard about the conversation he'd had with Donna Winston.

He had been quite surprised to see the young widow at the party as she had kept herself and her kids away from any of the Club's family-oriented activities in past, both before and after her old man had gone to Chino, and even more so after his death.

_Maybe it would have been better had she continued to stay away._

As President of the Club for over 15 years, Clay didn't take kindly to having his leadership called into question, especially not by an outsider. When issues arose within the Club, they were quickly and quietly put to bed. With Opie's death being avenged by his brother, his "killer" taken care of over a month ago, he didn't like the idea that _anyone_ would doubt the validity of the vengeance that had been meted out.

_Especially after all the trouble Tig and I took to put this shit to bed_.

Clay Morrow was not a man to rehash his mistakes. The executive decision that he had made to kill a brother believed to be a rat had been a decision made for the good of the entire Club. He thought that, by getting rid of Opie, he would be keeping Bobby off of death row. It was unfortunate that he had made an error in judgment that had resulted in an innocent brother's death.

On the other hand, the cover up that he had affected with Tig _did_ benefit him, thereby keeping the rest of the Club from finding out that he had given the order for the death of Opie Winston.

From a strictly analytical aspect, if presented with the evidence, most of those sitting around the table would have likely voted to patch Opie out. Even Jax himself, when confronted with evidence of the Feds paying off Opie's debts, had stated that if Opie had turned rat, he would kill him himself. But Clay knew enough to know that had the Club been tasked with deciding Opie's fate, the effects of that decision would have eventually fractured the charter. Faced with additional evidence in the form of the bugs in Opie's truck and phone, Clay had felt that his hand was being forced to make the decision on behalf the Club, without their knowledge, in order to keep it whole. It had been Agent Stahl's plan all along to turn the Club in on itself and, to a certain extent, her plan had succeeded.

Now that the damage had been done, there was no use in lamenting over the what-ifs. He and Tig had managed to clean up the mess and Clay was not about to give anyone the leeway to start questioning the cover up he had put into place, thereby exposing himself and his SAA as the ones responsible for Opie's death.

For the time being, Clay had decided that he might be better off keeping a close watch on the Widow Winston. Having caused irreparable damage to that family already, Clay could only hope that he had managed to get his point across to Donna.

_Because if she didn't get the message loud and clear tonight_ , Clay thought. _I just might need to reinforce the point._

 


	8. The Trouble with Women

Gemma smiled down at her cooing grandson as she pulled him and his carryall out of her Escalade and slammed the SUV's door. Carrying Abel and her handbag on one side, along with his diaper bag and a couple of bags of groceries on the other, the Biker Queen trudged up the walkway to her son's house. Eyeing the unkempt greenery that dared pass itself off as the front lawn, Gemma grimaced.

_Jax needs to get his ass out here and mow some shit._

But as she thought about her son, who lately seemed to have a shitload of Club-related tasks on his plate, she decided to cut him a little slack.

_I'll just get Jesús to stop by and give the front and backyards a going-over._

Struggling to get her key into the lock with her hands full, Gemma finally got the front door open and stepping inside with Abel, kicked the door shut.

"First things first, baby boy," She said to her grandson. "I'm going to put you down and put this shit away. Then we'll have some fun." She grinned at the beautiful baby happily kicking his feet in the carrier, glad that she had given Abel's new babysitter, Neeta, the day off.

_I need to spend time with my grandson. It reminds me of what's important, namely keeping Jax and his moron of an old lady together._

Having left the bulk of the bags in the hallway, Gemma headed towards the nursery. But as she entered the room, the woman's jaw dropped as she saw the devastation.

"What the fuck?" She gasped.

Managing to find a little bit of free space on the daybed, she set her grandson's carrier down carefully as her eyes roved over the decimated room with growing anger. With furniture overturned and baby paraphernalia strewn all over the room, diapers hacked and sliced to bits, broken toys and shredded clothes, it was completely shocking and horrifying.

 _What kind of a sick twisted fuck would do this to a baby's nursery?_ Gemma wondered, slightly dazed.

But as her eyes centered on the far corner wall, realization started to set in. Attached to the wall with colored push-pins was a collection of photos, many of them with the eyes or faces of the subjects mutilated. The one in the center of the sick collage, however, pissed her off the most. Looking at what was clearly a surveillance photo of Tara and Jax standing outside of St. Thomas, an angry spark ignited in Gemma's eyes as she noted the large red X marked over her son's head.

Turning around, Gemma took a step towards the crib and heard a loud, squishy sound. Looking down at her kick-ass high heels, Gemma wrinkled her nose with disgust at the large wet spot on the carpet and the now unmistakable odor of urine wafting to her nose.

"Damn it!" She yelled, startling Abel and causing him to start crying. Gingerly stepping out of the offending area, Gemma grabbed her grandson and rocked him back and forth to quiet him down as the Queen of Charming pulled out her prepay to make a call.

"I don't know what that piece of doctor shit has gotten my son into, but there's going to be hell to pay." Gemma vowed as she pressed the first number on her speed dial.

* * *

 

Slamming the front door behind him, Jax stalked towards the nursery only to be met by his mother and his son in the hallway.

"What the fuck is going on? Is Abel all right?" He barked. Reaching for the baby, the young SAMCRO VP pulled his son into his arms and kissed the top of his head.

"He's okay, but no thanks to you, asshole! I just knew your fuckin' ex coming back to town was nothing but bad news!" Gemma charged. Angrily pointing to the nursery, she growled. "Why don't you check out for yourself the redecorating job somebody did to Abel's room? I can tell you this, they ain't no Martha Stewart!"

Eyeing his angry mother Jax stormed into the nursery and stopped dead in his tracks. "Shit!" He breathed. Stalking through the debris, his lips tightened as he focused on the pictures on the wall—pictures of him with his Club brothers; on the street; one of him fucking a woman he had met in Indian Hills doggy-style; and another with a different woman he had banged up against a wall outside a bar in Lodi. But it was the picture of him and Tara that made him swear.

"That bitch!" Gemma started angrily, but her son waved her off.

"This is not her fault." Jax said adamantly.

_It's mine. I should have taken care of this prick from the start._

Carefully handing his son over to Gemma, he said, "Call and get the Prospect over here to clean this shit up. And neither of you are to say shit to anybody. I'm handling this."

"But—" Gemma protested.

"But nothing! I am telling you what I want done and you're gonna do it. This shit is personal and has nothing to do with the Club. And it's not Tara's fault, so let me handle it because nobody needs to know about her involvement. Understand?"

Gemma nodded silently and watched as her son stormed out of the house as she rocked her grandson.

"You are so wrong." She murmured. "That bitch has everything to do with this shit. And I'm going to have to do what I can to make you see that."

* * *

 

Deputy Chief David Hale had just finished filing a report on a matter involving a small group of teenagers caught in the act of vandalizing some park benches last night when Officer Eglee informed him he had a call on hold. Picking up the receiver, he was surprised to hear the voice on the other end of the line.

_"Where's the ATF dick wad?"_

Hale leaned back against his desk and took a sip of his coffee before replying. "And how are you today, Jackson?"

_"I'm not making a social call here." Jax replied brusquely. "I thought that after our discussion you were gonna do something about the ATF maggot stalking Tara." He bit out._

"I did." Hale insisted, but it had taken a while.

True to his word, after making some calls to Chicago, Hale had notified Kohn's superiors about his violation of the terms of the restraining order issued out of state. To Hale's shock, however, the head of ATF's Stockton Division—and Kohn's supervisor—had tried to twist his arm and convince him to keep quiet about the R.O. Insisting that Kohn, currently their best agent, was in a position to finally break the Sons-RIRA NorCal gun connection, the supervisor had made a convincing case for Hale to ignore knowledge of the existence of any restraining order. They were on the brink of not only making a break in what would be a high profile case for the ATF, but they were finally on their way to ridding the sleepy town of Charming of its MC plague, which had been at the top of Hale's to-do list since joining Charming P.D.

_"Just keep an eye on him," The Director had said cagily. "And I'll talk to him as well and we'll keep this shit contained and under wraps until the case has been put to bed."_

Hale had been very tempted to do so, but he had seen first hand what bending the law to try and bring the Sons to justice had accomplished. He may not have been as guilty as others, but he still had the blood of Opie Winston on his hands. And the fate of Opie's young widow and two now-fatherless children on his conscience.

Hale had also known Tara Knowles from back in the day before she had left Charming. He felt nothing but pride and admiration for the small town girl who had accomplished so much for herself. He was not about to add to the body count of innocent victims. He was tired of the ATF shitting on his town. Instead of toeing the line with the Feds, this time Hale insisted that action be taken against Kohn or he was going over the Director's head.

As a civil servant—a servant of the people—the Director was risking an obstruction of justice charge for aiding and abetting a violent stalker licensed to carry a weapon. Seeing no other way around it, the Director stripped Kohn of his credentials and ordered him to return to Chicago immediately to face possible criminal charges. He had tasked Hale and his deputies with seeing that Kohn got his ass on a plane heading out of California ASAP.

"Look, I took care of it. As a matter of fact, he is on his way out of Charming today, as soon as he returns to the station house to pick up his shit." Hale explained. "He was suspended and is facing jail time. A couple of my deputies will escort him to Oakland and put him on a plane back to Chicago where his Fed buddies will be waiting for him. He just went down to Floyd's for one last hot shave. Why the fuck are you asking, anyway?"

All Hale heard in response was the phone being disconnected.

Hanging up, Hale slowly put two and two together. Hastily dropping his coffee cup on the desk, he headed towards the station house's exit and his Jeep.

"Where you going, D.C.?" Eglee called out.

"To stop a murder." Hale replied tersely.

* * *

"What happened?" Tara gasped as she walked behind one of the curtains in the Emergency Room.

Jax was sitting on an examination table in his boxers as one of the nurses finished wrapping his thigh. "Hiya, Doc." Jax smiled as if he had just been interrupted while drinking a cup of coffee. "Everything's all good, especially with this lovely young beauty taking care of me."

Tara eyed him warily. Nurse Nan Anderson hadn't seen this side of 50 for over ten years. Nonetheless, the older woman managed to blush like a schoolgirl at the young biker. "Seems like someone around here could probably give Casanova some lessons on freeing the ladies of their knickers," Nan replied a little breathlessly. Jax couldn't help but laugh at Tara's little gasp of shock. "But that's alright. I like it."

Handing a plastic bag to her patient, the nurse continued. "Here is some ibuprofen to help manage the pain, sweetie. I also packed you enough bandages so you can change the dressing at least once a day for the next couple of days." She bent over to whisper. "I'm only supposed to give you enough for a two days, but there's enough in there for a week, so don't tell on me."

"I won't, darlin'." Jax winked at her.

"Well, I guess I'll turn you over now to Dr. Knowles' very capable hands." Looking over her shoulder, Tara watched as the older woman left the treatment area with a spring in her step and, for the first time, noticed the police officer waiting patiently right outside the partition.

Quickly realizing that Jax was in some kind of trouble, Tara made quick work of escorting the officer to the waiting area so she could find out what happened. By the time she had returned, Jax had managed to get into his bloody jeans and kutte and was in the process of tying his sneakers.

"Do you want to tell me what happened?" Tara whispered worriedly.

Jax sighed. He really hated to, but it was better that she got the story from him than anyone else. "Me and Kohn got into it down at Floyd's."

"Oh my God, Jax." Tara covered her mouth and shuddered.

"Hey, don't worry," He quickly tried to reassure her. "It's okay."

"How is it _okay_? What did he do to you? I thought he was gone. I haven't seen him for weeks." Tara babbled, her mind bouncing everywhere as she tried to deal with what all this meant and what the ramifications would be.

"He didn't do much, other than stab me with a pair of Floyd's scissors. Trust me, Doc. He got the worst of it. He's down at the station house now," Jax smiled lethally. "In custody."

"Really?" Tara's eyes widened.

"Yeah, that's why the uniform's waiting outside for me to get stitched up. He's taking me in, too." Seeing Tara's eyes flood with emotion, Jax placed his hands on her shoulders. "Hey, don't flip out on me, okay?"

"What if they arrest you?" Tara whispered breathlessly. "He's a federal agent. You could do some really hard time."

"He _was_ an agent. He was stripped of his badge and is up to his neck in shit. It looks like he'll be the one doing time. I did nothing but defend myself against an ordinary citizen that tried to kill me with a pair of scissors." Jax explained confidently, knowing that the only time he would spend with law enforcement was waiting to sign his statement of the events. "Coming after you was bad enough, Tara, but after what he did to Abel's nursery, the motherfucker's lucky he's still breathing."

"What—"

"He trashed my son's room." Jax said simply, leaving out details, like the sick photo collage Kohn had left on the wall.

"Oh shit."

"I have to warn you. Gemma was the one who discovered it."

"Oh, double shit." Tara moaned. "She hates me enough as it is."

"Don't worry. I got it handled." Jax assured her. "But I want you to stay at the hospital and under wraps until we know for sure that Kohn left town today, a'ight?"

Tara nodded. "Jax, I—"

"Don't start with the apologies, Doc. We have way too much history for that shit." Jax insisted with half a smile. "I better go." Tara stood and watched as he limped away. They indeed had a lot of history, but Tara had no idea where she stood with him now, in the present.

Tara was afraid that she was being delusional and letting herself believe that there was something real between the two of them. After the near devastating kiss they had shared the day before Abel's release, she had found herself getting her hopes up that maybe the two of them could restart their relationship.

But obviously her attempt to move them to the next level and out in the open had backfired as far as Jax was concerned. It was obvious that he wasn't ready to commit himself to a new relationship. The rational side of her had told Tara that it would be smarter and better to wait, especially since Jax was still in the midst of getting a divorce from Wendy, but she had stupidly pressed the issue.

Jax had practically dragged her out of the living room to confront her about the very public kiss and Tara had gotten defensive. Feeling angry and embarrassed, she had slapped Jax before storming out of the house and had not laid eyes on him since, until now.

With Joshua now aiming his rage at Jax and his innocent baby, here they were all over again. Jax, always her knight in shining armor in the past, was once again stepping up to fight her battles and cleaning up her messes. And if Tara was even a little honest with herself, she would admit that had been one of the reasons she had returned to Charming in the first place.

With or without Jax for protection, Tara still wished she had kept her father's old gun. Any man who could unleash his wrath on a nursery had to be certifiable.

_Thank God Abel was unharmed._

Otherwise, this time around, Tara wouldn't make it out of Charming alive because Gemma would rip her to shreds.

Tara turned and headed down the hall towards her office deep in thought. She could only hope that what Jax had said was true and that Joshua would now leave Charming for good.

Because once he was gone, she could take that glimmer of hope and work on reuniting with her old love and never have to leave Charming—or his protection—ever again.

* * *

"I can't believe this shit!" Joshua Kohn raged.

Sitting in Deputy Chief Hale's office, Kohn was a bloody mess, his white shirt stained with no one's blood but his own, his face a bruised and battered mess.

"Believe it," Hale crossed his arms as he leaned against his desk and eyed the bitter man in front of him. "Floyd has already given his statement."

"Well, does it really come as a surprise when I tell you that he's fucking LYING?!" Kohn retorted.

"No," Hale shook his head. "But it's unlikely that I can do anything about it."

"David, you have to help me." The now-former ATF agent pleaded. "You can't leave Tara in this situation. She _cannot_ end up with that asshole."

"What situation, Josh? You mean the one you pushed her into?" David countered, exasperated. "Tara Knowles is a grown woman and quite capable of making her own decisions. Besides, you only have yourself to blame if she ends up with Teller again. Had you truly cared about her well-being, you would have respected the restraining order. She had a life and a career in Chicago. You pushed her back here," He emphasized. "And because you couldn't let her go, now you've lost everything else as well."

Kohn painted a pathetic picture, sitting slump-shouldered in the chair in front of Hale's desk. As an ATF Agent, Kohn had had the potential of having a stellar career. Unfortunately, his sick obsession with one woman had pushed him over the line and into a place where bad men lived. He was now no better than Jax Teller. As far as Hale knew, at least Teller had never been accused of violence against a woman. If the report attached to the R.O. was true, Tara had been hurt severely enough that she had been hospitalized.

Hale stood upright. "I'll have a couple of officers escort you to the locker room so you can clean up. There's no way we can put your ass on a plane looking like that." He opened the door and waved two uniforms into his office. "If you know what's good for you, Josh, you'll leave Charming and never look back. Because the next time Jackson Teller gets his hands on you, you won't make it out of this town alive."

* * *

"Well, what in the fuck happened to you?" Piney growled over the noise in the Clubhouse.

Jax limped over to the bar where his best friend's father was sitting in his favorite seat, holding a shot glass full of his favorite beverage. The boisterous noise and bawdy conversations of his brothers came to a sudden halt as they got a good look at their VP.

"Jackie Boy, wha' happened, brutha? Did your ass finally lay your pretty little Dyna down?" Chibs laughed long and hard as the other patches followed suit.

Jax was rounding the bar to fix himself a drink. "No asshole," He shot back. "Instead of holding my dick while watching others play pool, I was taking out some ATF trash."

That statement brought the laughter to a halt. "What the fuck happened?" Clay said with a slight edge in his voice.

"I was down at Floyd's for a hot shave when I got into it with the ATF goon." Jax lied with a straight face. "Obviously, the guy's bat shit crazy. Fight's like a fuckin' girl, too. Had to stab me with a pair of scissors to keep me from handing him his ass." He indicated his injured leg.

"Shit." Bobby muttered under his breath. He remembered Jax's concerns about the POS shadowing him at the hospital. He was going to bring it to the Club, but never got around to it. I hope this isn't going to blow back on him.

"I thought once we got rid of that Stahl gash that we were all clear with the ATF." Tig sighed heavily.

"If we weren't, we are now. Apparently, this guy pissed off some of the top brass in Stockton. He's been stripped of his badge and there are two of Charming's finest ready to escort him out of town and into federal custody." Jax sat down and grinned as he knocked back his shot. "So, boys, looks like we're down _two_ ATF assholes."

"And this shit between the two of you has nothing to do with the Club?" Clay countered.

"Nah, it was all personal. The asshole wanted to press charges against me for _allegedly_ throwing him through Floyd's plate glass window, but every witness Unser spoke to told a different story." He grinned as his brothers yelled and cheered.

"Good." Clay replied. "Now that you _allegedly_ got your jollies for the day," He said sourly. "Maybe we can start Church. We got a 'charity toy run' up to Eureka coming up soon and we have some protection runs for Unser to discuss."

* * *

Leaving his helmet on the handlebars of his Dyna, Jax Teller ran his hand through his hair as he swaggered up the walkway, his saddlebag swung over his shoulder.

After the events of this recent gun run to Eureka masquerading as a charity toy drive—including busting through the wall of a cheap motel with a flatbed truck to rescue Tig after he was snatched up by bounty hunters—the SAMCRO VP was feeling all shades of beat up, physically and mentally. To add to his exhaustion, he had followed up the run by overseeing a couple of protection runs for Unser Trucking to Bakersfield and Fresno.

Jax loved spending time on the road, these long runs providing him with some much needed down time so he could organize the noise in his head. Two weeks had passed since Abel had finally come home from St. Thomas and Jax couldn't believe just how fast he had fallen in love with the new life he had played his part in creating. This time around, however, nothing was going to help him get shit straight in his head regarding his uneasy relationship with his stepfather and President as he begrudged the time these runs were taking away from being at home with his son.

Looking forward to seeing Abel and then taking a long shower before heading to the Clubhouse for Church, Jax unlocked the door to his home. The first and only thing he noticed were the high pitched screams of his boy.

"What the hell?" Jax threw his saddlebags down.

Sitting on the living room floor surrounded by books, his somewhat frantic and disheveled soon-to-be ex-wife looked up from the one she was thumbing through, her eyes landing on him in relief.

"Oh, thank God you're home." Wendy exclaimed as she jumped up from the floor.

"What's wrong with little man? And where's Neeta?" Jax asked, quickly dodging the hug Wendy was going to wrap him in.

Her feelings hurt, Wendy shrugged her shoulders. "Neeta went to the store and I don't know what's wrong with Abel." She wailed. "I fed him and changed him, but he still won't stop crying."

"Okay, let me go check on him." Walking a wide berth around Wendy, Jax headed for the nursery. The room, done in pale blue and white, had been restored to its pristine and cheery state prior to Agent Kohn's attack on it. Unfortunately, not even the colorful mobile spinning over his head while chiming _Brahm's Lullaby_ mattered to the small occupant of the crib, who was making it painfully clear how unhappy he was.

"Hey, hey now," Jax murmured as he reached into the crib and picked up his son.

He bounced the small swaddled bundle in his arms and Abel immediately started to quiet down, the warmth of his father's body and the gentle rocking in his arms soothing the child. Sitting down on the daybed, Jax leaned back as he watched his son's eyes latch onto his face, one small arm managing to free itself from the blanket and flailing in the air. Soon, his crying and tears were replaced by smiles and chortling.

"There you go, little man. That's all you really wanted, right? Just a little love and attention 'cause even we Teller men just like to cuddle." Jax smiled as he captured his son's tiny fist in his, allowing his thumb to settle in Abel's small palm and was rewarded with an almighty squeeze. "You sure are working that grip, huh? You'll be ready for a Harley in no time."

Looking towards the empty doorway to his son's room, Jax wondered what the fuck Wendy had been thinking.

 _She wasn't thinking. And come to think of it, neither am I_ , Jax chastised himself. _That's part of the problem_.

Jax had made the decision, in spite of his initial gut reaction, to try and work things out with Wendy. Despite the recent tension between the two of them after Tara had made her interest in getting back with him public, Jax had followed the advice given to him by Bobby and was dealing with one situation at a time. He had managed to calm Wendy down, telling her that he was not involved with their son's doctor and, for probably the first time in his life, he wasn't lying to one woman about his involvement with another.

After all, regardless of the bad decisions Wendy had made in the past, she was still the mother of his son. Now that she had finished rehab and was diligently working her way back to a full recovery, Wendy wasn't the only one with a vested interest that she remain clean for their son. Jax owed it to his son to do his part to help his mother maintain her sobriety.

But Jax was starting to wonder if he had made a mistake by merely hinting that their relationship was salvageable. It was becoming painfully obvious to him that Wendy, although well-meaning, really didn't have what it took to be a wife and mother. Not that he believed himself worthy of any Father of the Year awards, but weren't even animals capable of distinguishing what type of distress their babies were suffering by the sound of their cries? How hard was it to recognize that Abel didn't want to be alone? Does Wendy have any maternal instincts at all?

Jax knew that he was probably being overly critical. He also acknowledged that being responsible for a little person who depended on whether or not you were capable of sustaining life gave him the right to criticize. As much as he wanted his son to have a mother, it was even more important that he have the _right_ mother. And Bobby was right. Not just any woman will do.

As much of a pain in the ass as Gemma has been lately, no one—especially Jax—could deny how good a mother she had been. She would do anything for Jax. For her family. For the Club.

 _I need that and I want that in a mother for my son and in an old lady for myself_.

As much time as Jax spent on the road, he needed to have his mind on the job at hand, not worrying about what was going on at home. Wendy had done her part in visiting Abel while he was in the hospital several times a week while residing at the sober living facility in Lincoln Village. But a handful of supervised visits a week was not enough to convince Jax of her ability to see to their son's needs. Even though Abel had Neeta taking care of him during the day, Jax now felt that he must have been out of his mind leaving Wendy alone to fend for herself and Abel at night.

Maybe it was unfair of him to live with one foot in the past when she really was making the effort, but it was hard to leave behind the twisted shit they had experienced together when an innocent child was involved. Relapsing—which Wendy had done numerous times after living sober for quite a while—was not an option. If he was honest, the shadow of their dark history together hampered any real attempt for yet another reconciliation.

 _When I told Wendy that we already had our dance, maybe I should have just left it at that_.

Coming home from this latest run had brought to the forefront of his memory too many similar past incidents. Unfortunately for Wendy, the moments that stood out in his mind the most regarding their relationship were all bad. Even what should have been the happiest day of his life—the day his son was born—had been tainted.

 _Just like the day Abel was born, there are so many other days that I wish I could erase from my mind. But even now, I can still remember the worst of those like it was yesterday_.

* * *

"Aw shit, Wendy! What the fuck have you done?!" Jax raged.

Stomping through the trail of litter and garbage in the hallway, Jax ran towards the body lying in a heap on the floor. Turning it over, he swore again as he saw the discarded needle on the floor lying next to his wife as she tweaked.

Quickly lifting her up, Jax rushed Wendy to the bathroom. She was moaning and making unintelligible noises as Jax sat her down on the toilet, holding her with one arm as he stretched the other to turn on the shower. Not wasting precious seconds by stripping her of her clothes or removing his kutte, Jax forced Wendy onto her feet and dragged her into the shower. With her reaction time affected by the amount of drugs in her system, it took Wendy longer than Jax to register that she was standing underneath the spray of a cold shower. It was close to a minute before she sobered up enough to register the icy needles falling from the showerhead and pricking her skin.

Gasping for air, Wendy let out a bloodcurdling scream as her eyes flew open. Her pupils were dilated and her mascara had run, making her look like a rabid raccoon as she bared her teeth and clawed at Jax's skin with her long and pointy acrylic nails. In the blink of an eye, Wendy had gone from dangling in Jax's arms like a wet noodle, to a raving lunatic fighting against him with the strength of a man. Struggling for control, Jax managed to wrap her in a bear hug and whispered soothingly to his junky old lady. Little by little, Wendy started to calm down as she collapsed against Jax, her body shuddering violently and her teeth chattering, but thankfully, she was no longer in danger of convulsing and seemed somewhat lucid.

Over the next hour, Jax did what he could to get his wife sober. But first, he worked on getting them both out of their water-logged clothes and into clothes that were warm and dry. Dressing her in one of his over-sized SAMCRO t-shirts, pajama pants and a pair of heavy wool socks, Jax carried Wendy to the living room. Placing her on the couch, he wrapped her in a blanket before going to the kitchen to get her something hot to drink. Watching her silently from the kitchen doorway as he waited for the water in the kettle to boil, Jax pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger.

 _I don't know how much longer I can live like this_.

With two failed rehab attempts already under her belt, this was the second time he had come home from a run to find her like this. If she kept using at the rate she was going, Jax was sure that it was just a matter of time before Wendy overdid it one day and OD'd for real.

Bringing her a steaming mug of her favorite peppermint tea, Jax kneeled beside her and coaxed her to drink. Pushing herself up on her elbow, Wendy took a few tentative sips as Jax ran his hand over her damp hair. Still trembling uncontrollably, she gently pushed the tea away and fell back onto the couch, pulling the heavy fleece blanket up to her chin. Looking at Jax's furrowed brow and the tight set of his jaw, Wendy started mewling softly before bursting into remorseful tears.

"I'm so sorry, Jax." Wendy whispered, her voice raw and hoarse from screaming.

Jax shook his head. "You have to stop doing this to yourself, Wendy."

"I will!" Wendy clumsily grabbed at Jax's face. "I promise. I'll go to rehab and get my shit straight for good, I promise."

Jax felt his teeth grind as his jaw clenched. "I hope for your sake you mean that because the next time I might not be around." He said as Wendy nodded emphatically. Jax was sure that she understood him not being around to mean out on a run. But Jax was truly finally fed up. He had already spoken to Rosen and all he had to do was give his lawyer the word to have Wendy served with his divorce papers.

Considering the fragile state she was in at the moment, Jax wasn't going to risk telling her that he wanted a divorce. But he was determined to get the hell out while there was still a chance. _'Til death do us part_ sure as hell didn't mean that he was going to stand around and watch her kill herself slowly.

Finding himself in this situation was just more proof to support his mother's case that he had no idea what he was getting himself into by marrying Wendy Case and that bad shit happens when he doesn't think things through.

Truth was Jax had thought things through. At least to the extent that he believed that by marrying someone—anyone—he could fill the void in his life. He was tired of connecting with women only on a physical level. He wanted, _needed_ someone that was loving and loyal to him. Someone he could unburden himself with and who made him the happiest motherfucker walking on two legs.

 _Too bad I didn't come to the conclusion that there just aren't that many Donnas to go around sooner_.

* * *

Jax had gone ahead and filed the divorce papers. Wendy had been devastated, but it had been the push she needed to get her checked in for another round of rehab. She had finished the program and had managed to stay clean long enough to convince Jax that they still had a chance to save their marriage. They reconciled for a brief time, only for Wendy to spiral back into her drug habit. It was only after Jax had left for good and she had been spinning out of control that they discovered he had knocked her up.

Now, after almost killing their son before he was born—and Jax all but letting her—Wendy claimed that this time things would be different. But how many times does a person have to get hit in the face with a bat before they stop giving the bat back?

Jax rubbed his goatee as he thought about the frustrated look on Wendy's face as he walked in earlier. He may be no angel himself, but could he really trust leaving her alone with their son for days, maybe even weeks, at a time?

 _There's only one answer and that is I can't take that chance_.

Finally coming around to his mother's way of thinking, Jax now had another obstacle to contend with. His own mother, who had done a complete about face when it came to the "crank whore", had taken the recovering addict under her wing and was now her number one cheerleader. Suddenly, the Queen of Charming was advocating for Wendy's rights as a wife and mother, going as far as to voice her strong approval of Jax and Wendy getting back together.

It was no surprise that as much as Jax Teller loved women, he didn't understand them. Shit, he wasn't even stupid enough to pretend that he did. But he knew his mother and he had a good idea as to just why Gemma was all of a sudden on Team Wendy. It had nothing to do with caring for or forgiving the daughter-in-law she had wanted to horsewhip to the brink of death on more than one occasion. As much as Gemma had disliked Wendy in the past, she still had an overwhelming and undeniable hatred of Jax's former high school girlfriend, Tara Knowles.

With Gemma still holding onto 10-year old history, Wendy hadn't been the only woman Jax had to talk off the ledge after Tara had laid a big one on him at Abel's welcome home. And to further compound Gemma's hatred of the good doctor, she was still pissed about the thrashing of Abel's nursery by Tara's stalker.

Running his free hand over his face as Abel fought to keep his baby blue eyes open, Jax knew he wasn't going to have a moment of peace until he found a way to deal with all the shit in his life threatening to pull him apart at the seams.

* * *

Jax had just taken a seat at the table in his darkened kitchen, a bottle of Jack at the ready and a shot glass in hand when he heard someone knocking on the door. As the front door opened, he grimaced ever so slightly as he saw his mother walk into his house uninvited.

 _Shit! There goes the good drunk I was gonna work on. Nothing kills a buzz like being Gemma'd_.

For years, it was a no-brainer that on Friday nights Jax and his brothers could be found down at the Clubhouse having a hell of a good time after Church. It was a great way to release some tension, bond with his brothers, and keep current on the new pussy available. But lately, with all the recent head butting with his stepfather and President, Jax had felt the need to spend a little time alone, which was why he was at home, planning on drinking solo, with no one around to question him when he sank into his thoughts.

But now with his mother pushing in on him, he knew that whatever peaceful time for reflection he had planned had just flown out the fuckin' window. As she slammed the door behind her, Jax was ready to charm himself out of the trouble he had managed to get himself into without even realizing.

"Hey, Ma. Lookin' good." He flashed her a smile that had gotten him out of trouble with his mother more times than he could count. "What are ya doin' here and not outside showing yourself off?"

Gemma grinned wryly as she made her way around the table to kiss her son on his forehead before sitting down next to him. "Flattery won't get you anywhere with me, Jackson." Pouring herself a shot of Jack, she quickly knocked it back.

Exasperated, Jax sighed. "Okay, Ma. Clearly, some animal has crawled up your ass to die and you blame me. Just tell me what I did." He eyed the woman coolly. "But don't think I'm gonna be your whipping boy tonight. I'm not in the mood."

The Queen raised a perfectly arched eyebrow. "Well, somebody's feeling a little pissy. That only makes shit harder for me 'cause nobody likes to hear the truth, especially from their mother."

Taking the shot glass from Gemma, Jax poured himself some whiskey and downed it. "I'll bite. What truth?"

"Wendy called me after you dropped Abel off at the house." Gemma started.

"Where is my son?" Jax asked.

"With Neeta." She replied, waving him away. "Abel's fine. Your old lady, on the other hand, needs you cut her a break." Gemma said soberly.

Now it was Jax's turn to raise his eyebrows. "I'm sorry if I'm having a hard time understanding this, but why are you suddenly all about seeing me and Wendy together? A few months ago, you wanted her dead."

His mother shrugged her shoulders. "People change." She said simply. "And believe me, sweetheart. Nobody's more surprised than I am. But I love you and my grandson and I want you to be a real family and finally find some happiness." She sighed.

 _And if I don't do something to get you to show Wendy that there's still a chance, the bitch might follow her counselor's advice and relocate to a sober-assisted living home in Seattle so she can concentrate and focus on her recovery. That would put her out of Jax's orbit for sure_.

"It's to be expected that it's going to take some time for the girl to get her shit straight, but she is trying. She's never going to be the perfect mother—"

"I'm not looking for _perfect_." Jax interrupted. "Right now, I'm looking for responsible, trustworthy and somewhat sane. I'm not seeing any of that from Wendy. If I'm not around, she falls apart." Jax eyed his mother warily. "I know I've made my share of mistakes with Wendy and I dropped the ball with Abel, but I no longer have my head up my ass. I have to think about my son's future. You should have heard him crying for attention and his mother was totally lost, had no clue what she should do. I want Abel to have a mother with at least enough motherly instinct to pick him up when he cries."

"Oh, I see." Gemma watched as Jax poured himself another drink. Downing it, he slammed the shot glass on the table. "And you think the good doctor has what it takes to be a mother for my grandson?"

"What? Mom, when did I—" Jax started, but his mother interrupted.

"Well, baby, she's not. When Tara first came back to Charming, I tried to talk to you about this shit, but you told me that all you had with her was history and that it had only been first love bullshit. But after what I saw at Abel's party," Gemma shook her head. "I'm afraid that you're letting yourself fall again, thinking that you can make her into a proper old lady. Don't let yourself get dazzled by what she's managed to accomplish, Jackson. Being a surgeon doesn't necessarily translate into old lady material. She's fragile, always has been, and when push comes to shove in this life, she's going to break badly and I don't want her taking you down with her because I know you. You'll end up blaming yourself."

"You done?" Jax asked bitterly, fed up with his mother's meddling. "In spite of what you think—whether or not I choose to work shit out with Wendy or restart something new with Tara—that decision is on me. Not you." Jax said loudly, the statement echoing in the room as Gemma's eyes widened. Standing up, Jax headed for the door. "The sooner you understand that, the happier I'll be."

* * *

"Hey," Donna's eyes smiled as she opened the door to find the blond biker standing on her doorstep. "What are you doing here on a Friday night? Shouldn't you be raising hell down at the Clubhouse?"

Jax grinned as he leaned against the doorway, letting his eyes drink in his friend. Wearing a tight pink tank top and a pair of black yoga pants, Donna Winston made a pretty picture with her face scrubbed free of makeup and her thick dark hair brushing her shoulders.

"The party follows me wherever I go, darlin'," Jax winked at her. "It's been a while since I've dropped by. Just thought I'd check up on you and the kids."

"Is that Uncle Jax?" Ellie yelled from the living room.

"Well, I guess I need to invite your ass in now," Donna opened the door wide and turned towards the living room. "Come on in."

As Jax closed the door behind him, he almost face palmed himself. His eyes had somehow glued themselves to his best friend's widow's ass the moment she had turned around, mesmerized as it swayed gently side to side. Worse yet, he had to admit that he liked what he saw.

 _What the hell is wrong with you_? Jax chastised himself. _Maybe banging a sweetbutt before coming over would have been a good idea, you fuckin' perv_.

Feeling a little embarrassed about his suddenly overactive libido, Jax quickly focused on Ellie and Kenny who were running towards him in greeting.

"Hey, you two. How you been?" Jax smiled as they both slammed into him, hugging him tight.

"Great, Uncle Jax, but we've missed you." Ellie replied.

"Yeah, you haven't come by for breakfast on Saturday for weeks." Kenny complained.

"Yeah, I know." Jax looked up and met Donna's eyes. "The Club's been keeping me kinda busy lately."

"We understand, don't we, kids?" Donna replied. "Remember, your uncle has Abel keeping him pretty busy, too. How is the baby doing?"

Jax grinned. "Little man is doing great. And I have to tell you guys, your gifts were AWESOME!"

"You really liked them?" Ellie exclaimed, bouncing up and down.

"Yup. Just as soon as Abel's old enough, we're gonna get down on the floor and have some fun with those bad boys." He replied, thinking of the two colorful toy motorcycles with flashing headlights and a real kickstands.

"It even makes a sound like when you're revving the engine on your bike when you press the button on the clutch," Kenny chimed in. "It's really cool."

"I know, kid. You picked out some great ones." Jax smiled.

"Can you stay for dinner, Uncle Jax?" Kenny pleaded. "Mom got chicken and fixings from the KFC in Lodi. Then we're gonna watch one of her old timey movies we probably won't like, but we can always goof on it, so it'll be fun."

"Oh, you'll like it, you little booger. It's a classic, but maybe your uncle needs to get back to his party."

"No, I don't." Jax responded quickly. "I'd love to stay."

"Great!" Ellie exclaimed happily. "You can help me and Kenny set the table." She grabbed Jax's hand and dragged him towards the dining room as Donna looked on.

Donna had been looking forward to family movie night all week and thought it would be nice as usual.

 _But now, it just got even better_.

* * *

Hanging out with Donna and kids was exactly what the young outlaw had needed to clear his mind of the shit that was threatening to drown him. Being around Donna and the kids always reminded him how complicated his life was. It made him yearn for a way to simplify things for the sake of his sanity as well as for the well-being of his son. Gemma's interference in his life, although nothing new, was smothering him as of late. She meant well, he knew this, but she had to stop pushing her agenda on him. Jax was no fool and his conversation earlier with his mother had just confirmed what he had been suspecting. Gemma was pushing Wendy at him as an antidote to Tara.

Little did she know that there wasn't anything between him and Tara, except an ill-timed kiss. And for the time being, Jax's only focus was on keeping it that way. It was obvious that his soon-to-be ex-wife had confided to Gemma about what had happened after Jax had returned from his run earlier that day. He had enough sense to know that any woman willing to get involved with him while his life was in a shambles was questionably sane, but would probably have a spine of steel.

And even he knew that wasn't Tara Knowles.

Now, sitting with Donna on the couch after tucking the kids in, Jax was totally relaxed as he drank a beer with his best friend's old lady.

"Shit, can't believe I forgot how good a fuckin' movie that was." Jax said as he sat next to Donna on the couch.

"Yeah. I knew the kids would love it, too. You can never go wrong with _The Goonies_." She replied taking the final sip from her beer.

The foursome had enjoyed a fun evening before the kids had pooped out and had fallen asleep one right after the other. After eating fast-food takeout, Donna had made a couple of large bowls of popcorn before everyone settled down in front of the television to watch the antics of the Goonies as they looked for pirate treasure and did their best to evade the Fratelli Gang.

"I gotta tell you. Mama Fratelli was a scary bitch, but she could probably still take some lessons from my mother when it comes to intimidation." Jax said wryly.

"Hmm, that sounds ominous." Donna giggled. "Don't tell me—Gemma's been jerking your chain again?"

"Of course! It's her hobby." Jax exclaimed with a smile. "She can't help that shit. In case you couldn't tell, she's a bit of a control freak." He whispered as if it were a big secret.

" _No?_ " Donna said with a deadpan expression.

"Ass!" Jax picked up a sofa pillow and bashed her with it.

"Jerk!" Donna ripped the pillow out of his hands and tossed it at his head, hitting him square in the face.

Jax leaned back and laughed. Putting his hands behind his head, he got more comfortable on the couch. "I love my Mom. Don't get me wrong. If I had to guess, this need she has to meddle is probably some leftover shit from her childhood. I don't really know my grandmother, but from what I've heard, she's a bit of a control freak, too."

"I guess your mom comes by it honestly then. What's got you all twisted up about Mother Gemma?" Donna asked bluntly.

Jax shrugged his shoulders. He was not about to share with Donna that his mother was still trying to pick his women for him. "Nothing that I can't handle. Sometimes I have to tell her to put a sock in it. I just wish I didn't have to."

Donna smiled. "Good for you. I'm glad to hear that _somebody_ can still stop her in her tracks once in a while. I was starting to think that you were something of a Mama's Boy." She teased.

"What?!" He yelped in a faux-outraged voice. "Where's that damn pillow?"

Donna laughed. "Yup! Used to tease Ope about it all the time, but he always stuck up for ya." She grinned. "He always had your back." She finished quietly.

Jax stopped and swallowed the sudden lump in his throat. "Yeah, he always did. I only wish I could have been there for him. I wish I could have stopped shit from—"

Donna quickly placed a hand on his thigh. "I know, Jax. Don't beat yourself up. You've always been there for him by being there for us. The phone calls to the kids, the visits while he was in Chino. You looked after his family when he couldn't." She said. "Even the money that I didn't want and said I didn't need." She smiled wryly.

Jax ran his hand over the hair on his chin. "You still pissed about that?" He asked referring to the last envelope he had left behind.

"No. I know you meant well, but it's not necessary any more, Jax. We're getting along fine now." Donna assured him. _But maybe now's the time to ask some questions_. Donna moistened her lips. "But—" She hesitated.

"But what?" Jax quirked an eyebrow.

"Hold on. I'll be right back." As Donna headed towards her bedroom, Jax had a strange feeling that their conversation was about to take a hard left.

* * *

Jax eyed Donna as she returned to the living room with a stack of envelopes in her hand. She switched on several floor lamps and the room went from dim to fully illuminated. Jax realized that whatever shit bomb she was about to drop on him, Donna wanted to be able to see his face clearly.

Sitting next to him, Donna held out the stack of envelopes. "Here."

Taking the bundle, Jax removed the rubber band around it and started to flip through them. Puzzled, he looked up at her. "These are all bills. Damn it, Don. Why didn't you tell me you were behind? I would have taken care of this shit for you."

"Hold up, Jax." Now it was Donna who was confused. "Yeah, these are bills and, as it turns out, they're all paid in full. A good chunk of our credit card debt and mortgage has been wiped out and I wasn't the one who did it. I thought maybe you had, but judging by your reaction I'm guessing you didn't have anything to do with this either. Do you have any idea who might? Was it the Club?"

Jax sighed heavily. "No, darlin'. It wasn't the Club. But I know who was responsible."

Donna bowed her head. "The Feds, wasn't it?"

"Yeah."

"This have anything to do with the ATF bitch that questioned me about the Club and then scooped us up?" Donna asked bleakly.

For the last six months, Donna had allowed herself to remain naïve about some of the events that had occurred leading up to her husband's death. She had trusted Opie when he said that, after he had been pulled in by Agent Stahl and released, he had gone to the Club and that he was in good standing with his brothers.

Soon after his death, however, she started getting notices from their creditors stating that their accounts had been paid. Creditors who only months before were threatening the Winston family with foreclosing on their home and repossessing their cars.

Only to suddenly go away. _Like Opie_.

So when Jax had told her that the man responsible for Opie's death had been dealt with, she worked hard to silence the voice in the back of her head that told her that the Club was responsible. She had tried forgetting her suspicions that the Club, believing that Opie had turned rat, had covered up his murder as some drive-by orchestrated by a rival gang as revenge for some deal gone south.

But after practically being cornered at Abel's party by the SAMCRO President, Donna's old suspicions started resurfacing again. She needed to know the truth and make sure that the Club was not responsible for the death of her husband. She owed that to Opie and her children.

Jax reached out to put an arm around Donna's shoulders. "Look, all I can tell you is that the ATF bitch really had it in for the Club. She targeted Opie because he was fresh out of Chino and had alienated himself from the Club. Stahl figured she could apply some pressure, enough to make him turn rat. When he didn't, the gash tried to set him up as a rat anyway to cause trouble for him with the Club, hoping he would go to the Feds for protection. But no one believed that Ope would turn on his brothers. Not even when we got word that your bills had been paid."

"You knew about that?" She whispered, horrified.

Jax nodded. "Opie came forward like a true brother. We hashed everything out at the table and it was unanimous. No one ever believed that Opie would turn on the Club. Piney and I would never have let any harm to come to him. You have to know and believe that."

"I do, but you have to admit, Jax. After being interrogated in my own home by Stahl, having our bills paid, and being yanked into protective custody during the middle of the night came at a pretty inconvenient time. After Ope was killed, I was pretty much in a daze for weeks, but I can't lie, Jax. When notices starting arriving stating that we were debt free, I started having doubts that maybe the Club was involved after all. That's kind of why I pulled away so abruptly after Ope was buried. I was afraid that, if I started asking the wrong questions, I would be putting my children in danger of losing their only remaining parent." Donna admitted.

Jax felt his anger growing. "And you thought I would have something to do with that? That I would go along with hurting you?"

"No, of course not," Donna assured him. "But, Jax, _you're_ not at the head of the table. Clay Morrow _is_."

And with that statement it was as if all of the pieces of the puzzle clicked into place for Jax Teller.

_Shit!_

"And what does Clay have to do with this?" Seeing her hesitate, he pulled her closer to him. "Tell me, Don. I need to know."

"He had some things to say to me at Abel's party. I was careless and voiced my doubts about Opie's killer being brought to justice by the Club." Her blue-green eyes looked uneasily into Jax's angry ones. "I got the feeling that I was being warned to lay off, in an iron fist in a soft glove kinda way. He said that getting all twisted up about Ope's killer wouldn't be good for me—mentally or _physically_. I took it upon myself to read between the lines."

"Oh shit, Don."

"I've been trying to forget what he said, _how_ he said it, but I can't. I know a threat when I hear one, but as much as I love my children, I can't move on with my life, not with a shadow of doubt cast on why Opie really died. If there's a chance that the Club had something to do with his death, I knew I couldn't take this to Piney. His health is too fragile to take this on. And he's a bit of a hothead. I knew that if I was going to find out the truth, I had to bring it to you." Donna explained. "Please help me, Jax. I need to know the truth. And I know you do, too."

Jax reached out to caress Donna's cheek. "Tell me _everything_ the bastard said to you."

* * *

Jax felt a chill run down his back. Even though it was Donna he was listening to, he had no doubt in his mind that it was Clay he was hearing as she recounted their conversation in its entirety.

"Is that everything?" Jax asked, his stomach twisted into knots.

Donna nodded. "I could repeat it verbatim in my sleep if I had to, even though I haven't exactly been sleeping much anymore. Why is it that you don't seem surprised, Jax?" She ventured to ask.

Jax ran a hand through his hair. "I guess because on some levels—a lot of them—I've been waiting for the other shoe to drop since Ope died. There's been some shit going on within the Club that just hasn't been feeling right. Bad decisions being made, orders given then revoked, crazy shit. I've been trying to figure out what's going on, but it's like trying to see the forest for the trees. But what you've just shared with me tonight, it finally puts a name to the bad feeling I've been having about why Ope died and the direction in which the Club is heading."

"What does that mean, Jax? Was my husband a victim of some bullshit political agenda of Clay's? If he was, I want him dead! I don't give a shit about the right or wrong of it." She said angrily.

Jax reached over to cup Donna's face in his hands. "I need something from you, Don. I need for you to promise me that you'll let me handle this. Promise you won't do anything that will put you in danger or involve anyone else, in or outside the Club. Can you do that? Can you trust me?"

Donna looked into Jax's eyes. She saw the anger, the grief and the determination to see this shit through. And she believed him.

"I trust you, Jax, and I promise to let you handle it." She said softly.

Jax inhaled and let out a long breath. "I promise you, darlin', on the life of my son, I'm gonna find out the truth about Opie and, if Clay has anything to do with it, I will make sure he pays."

Hearing the strong resolution in his voice, feeling the strong grip of his hands on her face, Donna was filled with a sense of relief and freedom. Reaching for his face and cupping it in her hands, Donna placed a chaste kiss of gratitude on his warm lips.

Jax's eyes widened as Donna's delicate lips met his own. Pink and soft, her curved lips felt like silk against his and before he knew what he was doing, Jax opened his mouth to deepen the kiss.

At first momentarily frozen as Jax opened his mouth, Donna found herself sinking into the kiss as she balled her hands in the material of his t-shirt and pulled him closer to her, marveling at the somewhat sweet taste of beer in his mouth.

Crushing Donna's tiny frame against his own, Jax found himself burying his hands into her thick sable hair as he continued to kiss her, briefly pulling away from her lips to trail kisses down the side of her cheek and into her neck. Wrapping his arms around her waist, Jax lifted her up and moved her so that she was now straddling his lap, her pert ass making direct contact with the suddenly large bulge in his pants.

Bringing his lips back to hers, Jax continued to drink in the sweet taste of the passionate woman as she made little mewling sounds in the back of her throat. Grinding against him, Donna dug her hands into his hair and tugged his head to the side.

"Fuck—" Jax groaned as Donna dropped soft kisses on the side of his scruffy face before nipping and sucking on his earlobe, the sensation sending ripples of pleasure straight to his crotch.

"Yes," She breathed against his ear.

Pulling back slightly, Jax, his brow furrowed, looked into Donna's blue-green eyes dilated with passion. Realizing that she had just given him permission, Jax slammed his mouth on hers again, his hands inching up the back of her tank top. Jax swallowed her soft moans as she rubbed herself on his erection, making him so hard it was almost painful.

Fumbling with and finally undoing the hooks of her bra as their duel of lips and tongues intensified, Jax ran his slightly calloused hands over her taut tummy and up the front of her tank. She pulled away from their kiss and bit her lip to keep herself from crying out as his fingers brushed her nipples, causing them to tighten instantly into almost painfully hard buds.

Jax moaned incoherently, marveling at how quickly her body responded to his touch. Pushing her shirt up, Donna's head lolled back as Jax dotted her neck with kisses before letting his mouth seek and find the soft, satiny skin of her perfectly rounded breast. Donna's grip in his hair got tighter as he let his tongue teasingly lap over her tight nipple before sucking it into his mouth.

Donna let out a small yelp of surprise as Jax cupped her ass with his hands, quickly lifting them both off the couch. In an instant, Donna was on her back with Jax comfortably settled between her legs. Burying his face in her sweet-smelling neck, Jax growled as he rubbed his erection on her cleft currently covered by—what Jax cursed as too many layers—her underwear and yoga pants.

Intent on enjoying the sensations they were both feeling, a thought kept persisting at the back of Jax's mind, and refused to give up, continually digging at him.

_This is your best friend's wife! Ope's OLD LADY! OPIE'S FUCKIN' WIDOW!_

Jax gasped as he finally pulled away from Donna's embrace. Seeing her face flushed with her desire for him, mixing with the sudden shame in her eyes, her kiss-swollen lips, heaving breasts and her hair wildly tangled from his assault, Jax groaned as he inwardly cursed himself.

_WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING, ASSHOLE!_


	9. A Legacy Reborn

_**Present Day** _

Dawn was breaking when Jax Teller, Vice President of the Sons of Anarchy Motorcycle Club Redwood Original, placed the last page of his father's manuscript next to him in a pile on his bed. Having spent most of the afternoon and reading through the night, he had finally finished the 500-plus page manuscript. As he rubbed his hands across his face in deep contemplation, Jax found himself feeling a wide variety of emotions—anger, sorrow, fear and quite unexpectedly, a sense of freedom.

 _It really shakes a man to his core to realize that he's lived nearly thirty years on this earth and yet has never really known his father_.

From the time he was five years old, all Jax had ever wanted was a Harley and a kutte. He had worshiped his father, and had put him on a pedestal. JT could do no wrong in his eyes and Jax had strived to be a man just like his father. Only now, as if his father were speaking to him from the grave, did Jax have a real sense of what kind of man John Teller had really been. By getting to know his father through his own words and through Jax's own grown up eyes, the SAMCRO VP could finally see what JT's vision for the Club had been.

It was a hard pill to swallow knowing that he was currently living a lifestyle that his father had not wanted for him. It pained Jax to realize that, if somehow JT could see him now, he would be disappointed in his son.

Having managed to escape the harsh realities of war in Vietnam relatively intact, John Teller had returned to the States an otherwise changed man. Truly isolated from the rest of the world while trying to survive in the jungles of a foreign land, JT wasn't prepared for the lack of enthusiasm and pride he had been greeted with as he stepped off the plane in his dress uniform. Instead, he had been greeted by protesters who called him a baby killer and spat in his face.

Returning to Modesto, the town he had been born in, JT had been expected to pick up life right where he had left it. His piece of the pie that was the American Dream was waiting for him, but JT soon realized that he didn't want it. He didn't want to end up like his father, chasing a life he didn't really want solely because that's what everyone else was doing. JT refused to work at a job he hated, married to a woman he could hardly stand, paying a mortgage he could barely afford, only to drink himself into an early grave at 56.

Remembering the words of Emma Goldman, written long ago in red ink in a cave on the border between California and Nevada, JT climbed onto his beloved Sportser and headed for San Francisco. There, he immersed himself in the counterculture scene, experimenting with drugs, free love, and a new way of looking at life: living life for the sake of being happy and not for the procurement of material things.

Hooking up with another disillusioned blood brother who had survived the atrocities he had witnessed in Vietnam, JT took to the roads of NorCal and the Pacific Northwest with his best friend Piney Winston. Living like nomads, JT and Piney never stayed in one place too long, just long enough to make some money for gas and beer. Inspired by the people he had met in San Francisco, JT shared his vision for what he wanted his life to be like. Piney called JT's vision _Hippies on Harleys_. All JT knew was that he wanted a simple lifestyle with no boundaries and not anchored by authority.

Together with Piney and seven other brothers known as the First 9, JT had realized his vision, if only for a short time. In the wake of his youngest son's death, and after more than 20 years as the SAMCRO President and National President of 18 subsequent charters, JT had been moved to examine his life and the choices he had made. His manuscript was an in depth examination of the Club and how the organization that he and his best friend had formed morphed into something more than the Harley Commune they had envisioned.

At this point, the words of Emma Goldman had become like a mantra, a daily prayer that JT recited to himself in hopes of reigniting the rebellious fire they had set in him at 16 and that had set the overall tone of the Club.

" _Anarchism stands for liberation of the human mind from the dominion of religion, liberation of the human body from the dominion of property, liberation from shackles and the restrain of government. It stands for social order based on the free grouping of individuals."_

JT surmised, however, that somewhere along the way the Club had taken a different path. Flipping through the manuscript's pages, Jax read his father's words again.

" _I never made a conscious decision to have the club become one thing or another. It just happened before my eyes. Each savage event was a catalyst for the next. And by the time the violence reached epic proportion, I couldn't see it. Blood was every color."_

If it hadn't been clear before, there was no way Jax could go on ignoring some ugly truths now. SAMCRO _had_ lost its way, had become corrupted from within and has been dying ever since. Dedicating the book to his sons, it was obvious that JT had hoped that his surviving son would never know the life of chaos he had created for himself.

 _Instead, I'm hip deep in this shit and quite possibly a part of the problem as well_ , Jax thought grimly as he leaned his head against the headboard, the hangover he had incurred as a result from the previous night's barhopping long since gone. Now as he sat and soberly examined his own life choices in the light cast by his father's words, the young VP had no choice but to acknowledge his own failings and misdeeds, especially when he thought about his brother.

Opie's death was the catalyst that had brought him to a crossroads in his life and now, having been exposed to the wisdom of SAMCRO's First President, Jax realized that in order to move forward he was going to have to make some hard decisions regarding what he really wanted out of life and what changes he needed to make in order to be truly happy.

Because Jax wasn't happy. He hadn't been for a long time.

Where in the past SAMCRO had always been true north for Jax, the events of the past six months had left him feeling lost and almost like a stranger within his own Club. Jax had been hit sideways by the premature birth of his critically ill son and Abel's own struggle to survive the bad hand that had been dealt to him. Still struggling to wrap his head around the fact that he probably wouldn't be a father for long, Jax had been blindsided by the drive-by that had killed Opie. To complicate matters even further, his mother saw fit to live his life for him, trying to force her will on him regarding his relationships with his soon-to-be ex-wife and ex-old lady—if any existed to begin with. Then there was his best friend's widow who had awoken something in him he knew was forbidden, but that he could not stop thinking about. Or wanting.

All Jax knew was that, in the light of his father's words of wisdom, he wanted more for himself and his son. He didn't want Abel growing up without his father because his old man had made some bad choices. Thinking about his own son only reminded Jax that Ellie and Kenny Winston had lost their father quite possibly due to the machinations of a member of the Club their own grandfather had co-founded. Finding out the truth and making things right was just another promise he had made, another obligation he had taken on.

Needless to say, Jax knew that there was a lot of shit ready and waiting to keep him from living a reasonably happy life if he didn't cut it out like a cancer. He loved his brothers, loved his Club, but it was obvious that it was rotting from the inside out.

 _The Club isn't about love of brotherhood anymore_ , Jax thought to himself. _It's about fear and greed_.

And that fear and greed was bleeding from the head of the table.

Clay Morrow ran the Club with a single-mindedness of purpose, a ruthlessness that would be difficult to unseat, especially since the tension between the two men continued to grow.

It had not been an easy transition when the new President had married Jax's mother only months after his father's death. However, Clay had made the effort to bring Jax under his wing and, for over 15 years, Clay had been not only his stepfather, but mentor as well. Guiding him, Clay had molded Jax into the youngest VP of all the SOA charters, so he felt that he owed the older man a measure of loyalty.

But his own suspicions along with Donna's concerns regarding her husband's killer and Clay's thinly-veiled threats aimed at the young widow had Jax questioning his unwavering loyalty. JT's manuscript could not have come at a better time because, even though it wasn't a blueprint on how to fix SAMCRO, it gave credence to his belief that something had gone askew within the Club a long time ago and that Opie's death may have been a result of a hit sanctioned by those who considered themselves untouchable, like Clay Morrow himself.

Thinking about Opie inevitably led Jax to thinking about his widow and their last encounter. Even though nearly a month had passed since he had last seen Donna Winston, Jax winced with shame as he thought about the night he had crossed the line with his best friend's old lady. However, if he was truly honest with himself, Jax knew that what had happened between the two of them had been something that he had secretly been yearning for a very long time, as far back as during Opie's time in Chino.

Marrying Wendy had been in part an effort to keep his loneliness at bay. The endless disconnect he felt as a result of his numerous hit-and-run relationships with women was leaving him numb and desensitized. But it was also a result of his own selfish feelings of jealousy, coveting what Opie had—a woman that was loyal to a fault. Donna had sacrificed so much raising two small children on her own while her husband did time on behalf of a Club she despised only because she loved him unconditionally.

Jax Teller, a lover of all women, had never inspired such devotion in any of his pairings.

Tara had promised a long time ago to love him forever the night she was inked with his crow. She never said, however, that forever was a total of four months. Tara had tried blaming their break-up on his "insufferable" mother, but Jax knew Tara had one foot out the door the minute she had come into his life.

Once introduced to crank, Wendy was incapable of loving anyone, including herself, but especially Jax. Suspecting that his heart wasn't 100% invested in their relationship, Wendy always chose crank over him, saying that a $40 high had never disappointed her as much as he had.

But as much as Jax had tried convincing himself that he had wanted Donna once because she was unattainable, he was having trouble buying into that reasoning now. Even now, his stomach clenched as stirrings of desire swept through him, thinking about the night when he had barely pulled himself back from making love to his best friend's widow. It had taken everything he had to pull himself out of Donna's embrace. Even though nothing had felt so right for him in such a long time, he felt like a cheap piece of shit for allowing his wants and needs get the best of him. Judging by the look on her pretty, but flushed face, Donna had felt similar feelings of shame.

Neither of them willing to address what had happened between them, Jax had hastily excused himself, stating that he would do what he could to investigate the Clay situation before stumbling out of the Winston home.

Jax had occupied his time since then looking at the matter from every possible angle, all the while trying to deal with the possibility that his Club President had ordered Opie's death. It had taken such an emotional toll on him that Jax had been mostly missing in action during the past month, drinking and cruising the bars trying to work out his frustrations. Getting into drunken brawls and street fights seemed to be the only way he could alleviate not only the stress his suspicions regarding Clay had caused him, but it went a long way in helping him deal with his guilt regarding Donna. Because try as he might, he still wanted her.

In spite of what he felt was a good reason, Jax still felt like a tool for ducking out on what had become a Saturday morning breakfast ritual with the Winston kids. The last stilted and strained telephone conversation he had had with Donna over the phone had sent him on a 2-day bender in Lodi. His downward spiral had evolved into him showing a barely-there attitude on Club matters and even going as far as being MIA at Church on several occasions.

"That shit stops now." Jax decided out loud with more authority than he felt.

Finally realizing that it was time to pull his head out of his ass, Jax was determined to figure out what the hell was going on with the Club. It would help if he could get his personal life in order first, but he couldn't be bothered to think about anything but Donna. He had to do what he could to protect her so she wouldn't have to deal with Clay on her own.

Firmly resolved, Jax gathered his father's manuscript and, stuffing it into its envelope, hid it in a drawer underneath a pile of t-shirts. He smiled faintly to himself as he thought about Piney. The old coot had been sitting on JT's legacy to his son for over 15 years before deciding to share it with him. At first, Jax had been angry at the older man as he started to read his father's words, but after completing it, Jax realized that the old man had a great sense of timing. Only now was Jax prepared physically as well as mentally to do the hard work of helping SAMCRO find its way back to a Club steeped in brotherhood and family.

The SAMCRO VP took a quick shower and got dressed. As he stood in front of the dresser mirror, he took great care to put his kutte on slowly and with reverence, reminding himself that wearing the Club's colors was a privilege that had to be earned everyday. As he picked up his Glock and holstered it under his arm, Jax took a deep breath.

It wasn't going to be easy bringing about the changes necessary to save the Club, but nothing worthwhile ever came without a price, yet Jax Teller was determined to see it through. The first step was usually the hardest.

In Jax's case, he knew that to be true because his first step was going to see Donna Winston.

* * *

Exiting his dorm, Jax locked his door behind him and headed down the hallway. As usual, he stopped at the alcove which displayed his father's 1965 Panhead, a framed picture of JT sitting on the bike's seat. It was his custom to give the seat a good rap with his knuckles twice every morning as he passed by. His father's bike held a place of honor in the Clubhouse as Jax had rebuilt it with Opie several months after his father had died as a memorial to him.

But today, after finishing his father's manuscript, Jax paused in front of the bike. Gently placing one hand on the handlebars, he used the other to pick up the photo. In it, JT appeared young and vibrant as he sat on the Panhead wearing his kutte. His brown hair was almost shoulder-length and he was sporting a neatly trimmed beard on his sun-kissed face. His eyes were hidden behind aviator-style sunglasses, but it was obvious by the beaming smile on his face that the photo had been taken before Tommy's death. The JT Jax remembered prior to his own tragic death hadn't smiled like that in a long time.

_I promise you, Dad that I'm gonna help SAMCRO find its way again. It may not turn out exactly the way you and Piney envisioned, but it will be a hell of a lot better than this shit._

It was at that moment that Gemma quietly exited her old man's office-slash-dorm and saw her son. She was about to call out a greeting as his back was to her, but there something about the motionless figure and in the way he was holding his father's photo that rattled her.

The matriarch bit her lip as she watched her son silently contemplate what was Gemma's favorite picture of JT. As the SAMCRO VP reverently placed his father's picture back on the bike's seat, she was startled as she saw him quickly swipe a hand over his face, dashing away what could only be tears.

 _Jackson, baby, w_ _hat the hell is going on with you?_ She wondered, her hand over her heart, which had suddenly tightened in her chest.

Unaware of his mother's presence, Jax made his way towards the main room of the Clubhouse. Standing frozen in her four-inch Gucci boots, Gemma was momentarily struck speechless by her son's odd behavior, but coming to herself, she quickly headed in his direction.

Unfortunately, by the time she had made it to the bar, the only person awake after Friday night's festivities was Bobby Elvis. With several patches and hang-arounds strewn throughout the Club, it seemed that the shaggy-haired biker was the only one not suffering from a massive hangover.

"Morning, Gem." Bobby smiled at her. "I didn't know you were here. I was up early baking. Want some?" He asked, holding up his own mug of piping hot coffee and a slice of banana bread.

"No, thanks." She replied hurriedly. "Nobody likes a fat old lady." The SAMCRO Queen started towards the Chapel. "Is Jax in there?"

"No, honey. He grabbed a slice of my bread and ran out of here."

Gemma whirled around. "Shit! Where the fuck did he head off to so early on a Saturday?"

"He didn't say." The potbellied biker set his breakfast down on the bar and crossed over to the clearly agitated woman. "What's all this anxiety I'm getting from you?"

Gemma inhaled and let out a long sigh. "I don't know."

"Well, why don't you step into my office and let's find out, huh?" Wrapping an arm around the woman he has known for over 20 years, Bobby led her into the Chapel for some privacy. Sitting her down in Chibs' chair, he went back to the bar. Reaching for his coffee, he rethought that decision and grabbed a bottle of Jack and two shot glasses instead and returned to the Chapel.

 _I have the feeling that I'm about to get in the shit with Mother Gemma and I may need a little Dutch courage_.

Closing the door behind him, the patch sat next to Gemma and poured two shots. He raised an eyebrow when, with no comment at all, she quickly knocked back her drink.

"I guess somebody woke up on the wrong side of sober this morning." He murmured, hoping to tease the woman into his confidence.

"Sobriety's overrated." She replied grimly as she poured herself another shot and quickly downed it.

"Oh, I don't know about that." Bobby poured one more shot for them both and then set the bottle out of her reach. "What's wrong? Did you get into it with the boy again this morning?"

The SAMCRO Queen eyed the patch that was considered to be the Club's resident therapist and confidant. "Listening to gossip, are we? What have you heard?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "No gossip. I got it straight from the dog himself."

"Actually, I think man-whore would be more appropriate."

"Dog, man-whore, slut puppy—all appropriate names when talking about the James T. Kirk of the MC world," Bobby snarked. "But let's face it: Men are dogs; even my fine self and I have two exes to prove it. And just like dogs do, we tend to have a lot of bitches twisting us up or twisted up over us. Jax is no exception."

"I beg to differ. He's the next in line for the gavel after Clay retires. He has to be different, he has to be focused on what's important, and not let himself get twisted up by the doctor bitch." Gemma reached past Bobby and helped herself to another shot.

"Gemma, I know you see the need on occasion to blow smoke up the boy's ass about his legacy, but you're talking to me now. Trust me, darling, you are better off letting him figure out his old lady shit for himself. Riding him all the damn time's gonna backfire on ya."

"What?!" The matriarch looked pissed.

"Look," Bobby replied solemnly. "I don't claim to know all the history between him and the doc back in the day. But I saw enough to figure that they were two wild and crazy kids living that intense shit, more infatuation than anything of substance. That was 11 years ago. Your son is a grown man now. Don't you think he can figure out his own shit for himself? I know he has as good as told you to leave it alone."

"Well, I can't. Not when it seems like he's falling for this trick's charms again when he should be trying to make shit work out with Wendy, the mother of his son." Gemma argued.

"She's also the woman who nearly _killed_ his son," Bobby shot back. "Or have you conveniently forgotten that fact, 'cause I can tell you, Jax hasn't. And I'm kind of surprised that you would back him making up with the so-called _ex_ -junky."

"Believe me, it's only out of necessity." She retorted. "Wendy is the better of two evils, but right now I'm more concerned about Jax and what head space he's in. Over the last month or so, he seems different. Lost. I've been hearing shit around the Clubhouse. What's going on with him, Bobby?"

He sighed. "I'll have to admit that he hasn't been around a lot these past few weeks. He missed Church again last night, which made Clay none too happy. It's like his mind is in it, but his heart is elsewhere."

"That's not good," Gemma replied as she recalled her son's behavior only moments ago.

_And neither is all this tension between Jax and Clay._

"No, its not." Bobby agreed. "Living this life, having your mind and your heart at odds can get you killed."

Known among all of the mother charter's members as the calm and reasonable one, Bobby had spent a good deal of time since getting out of prison watching the stubborn head butting going on between the SAMCRO President and his VP. He had seen it before and Bobby was afraid that if whatever was going on between the two brothers were to continue, it would eventually bleed all over the charter. Opie's death had been a tragic situation in more ways than one, especially since life within SAMCRO seemed off kilter since it happened.

Sure, Clay had made a couple of questionable executive decisions for the good of the Club that could eventually blow back on SAMCRO, but Bobby was more concerned with Jax getting his ass back in gear and in sync with the Club or things could get ugly between the young man and his stepfather. Gemma meant well, but the overbearing Momma Bear shtick wasn't going to help Jax get his head back in the game and she needed to know this, but he had to word it carefully.

"Gemma, as Jax's mother you have every right to be concerned for your boy, but you are treading a very fine line with your level of involvement in his life. This isn't the baby you pushed out thirty years ago. Jackson is a fully patched member and the Vice President of this Club. You trying to call the shots in his personal life and Jax allowing it to happen makes him look weak, and that's the _last_ thing you want his brothers to think about the Club's future president."

Bobby watched as his words seemed to register with the SAMCRO Queen as a myriad of emotions played out on her face. In spite of the kutte on his back, she could very well tell him to fuck off, and, for a brief moment, he thought she would. But Bobby knew he was safe—for now—especially since one of those emotions marring her features was clearly fear. The last thing she wanted was to jeopardize her son's future with SAMCRO.

But for Gemma, her fear was coming from two places. The chance that she could be the reason why her Jax never achieved his legacy was one thing, but having her son perceived as weak was just too dangerous. The perception of weakness, coupled with the fact that deep down his father truly was weak, was what had killed JT. Of the two paths John Teller had forged for his son, the path to an early grave was one that Gemma would kill to keep Jax from taking.

 _Clay has no tolerance for weak men_ , Gemma closed her eyes for a moment, trying to control the sudden panic she felt.

Bobby's words had hit her hard and had left their mark. Instead of treading the fine line, Gemma had to step away and find her way around it without mussing it up. By no means was she prepared to step back and watch her only son make the greatest mistake of his life by reuniting with the doctor bitch. But Jax was strong and having him deemed otherwise was something she could not allow to happen, especially if she herself was the reason. All she had to do was tweak her game plan.

Leaning towards him, Gemma reached over and kissed Bobby tenderly on the cheek. "Thanks for looking out for my boy." She said quietly before standing up and heading out the Chapel doors.

* * *

Donna had just sprayed the waffle iron with cooking spray when the doorbell rang. Turning off the appliance, she hastily washed her hands as Ellie, who had been watching her with rapt attention during what would be her first attempt at making waffles, ran to answer the door.

It was Ellie's cry of "Uncle Jax!" that had stopped the young mother dead in her tracks.

_Shit!_

Suddenly feeling a mixture of anger, embarrassment and excitement, Donna tried to hold onto her mud as she heard Kenny abandon the current duel between Yu-Gi-Oh and Seto Kaiba playing out on the TV in the living room to run and greet Jax. The excited chatter of her children as they eagerly welcomed their uncle tugged at her heart, but the asshole had been MIA for nearly a month of their Saturday morning breakfasts and that pissed her off.

Hearing Jax's deep voice as he talked and laughed with the kids sent a chill of anticipation up her spine while, at the same time, Donna felt her body temperature rise as she recalled the last time he had been in her home. It almost felt like a year had passed since they had laid eyes on each other.

 _And hands. And mouths. And teeth. And legs_. She squirmed at the thought.

Throwing the dish towel on her shoulder, Donna used her now-dry hands to cover her face, which was rapidly heating up. Taking a deep breath, she folded her arms across her chest as she desperately fought to get her out-of-control emotions in check. Donna was still wavering on how she felt about what had happened between her and Jax. And on the family couch no less. The same couch she had often play-wrestled and made love on with her old man.

The young widow, who felt dirty for betraying her dead husband with his best friend, was at odds with the young woman in her that had reveled in another man's touch and who had been ready to take it further had Jax not come to his senses for the both of them.

For so many years, Donna had considered Jax Teller to be nothing more than Opie's best friend and a member of the Club he loved so much. She had known the attractive young biker during their high school years, but Donna had ever only had eyes for her first and only love, Opie Winston.

But when her old man went to prison, Donna found her relationship with his best friend changing quite unexpectedly. As a loyal friend, Jax took it upon himself to look after his brother's old lady and family. It was during that time that Donna was exposed to another side of Jackson Teller, one that maybe only those really close to him got the chance to see. Despite his pussy-chasing ways, he was a man of honor and loyalty who had a deep love for his family and his Club.

As a young mother raising two small toddlers alone, Donna quickly found herself looking forward to Jax's visits. He had always had a way with Kenny and Ellie and having someone around who actually spoke in full sentences was like a salve for her soul. It wasn't easy waiting for the man she loved while he went away for five long years for reasons she couldn't understand.

And it had been almost as difficult cutting herself off from Jax when some old ladies started whispering—just loud enough for her to hear—that Jax was making good use of the prison clause while Opie was away. Even though she later regretted it bitterly, Donna had pushed Jax away for the sake of her reputation and fear of causing a rift between him and Opie even though it had all been a malicious lie.

But Opie was gone now. This time forever.

Her husband may have been dead, but her lady bits were still in perfect working condition and with loneliness slowly creeping in, she had underestimated her need for physical contact when she had laid a chaste kiss on her friend's lips. The emotions Jax had unleashed from within her when he had deepened that kiss had overwhelmed her. She couldn't even remember how she had ended up on her back with her legs wrapped around his waist. What she did remember, however, was how quickly the extremely sexually-talented SAMCRO VP had her moaning and writhing underneath him.

 _But it was Jax who had put a stop to our lovemaking_ , she thought with shame. _Not me_. _I was so sex-starved I nearly raped the man_.

She could try to convince herself that she was just a desperate and pathetic lonely woman, but Donna knew that she had awoken something in Jax as well. Kissing her deeply, she had felt him harden as he rubbed himself in between her legs. And had he rubbed a little longer, he would have been the first man, other than Opie, to make her come.

"Oh God!" Donna moaned through clenched teeth in frustration.

She was literally torn in two, but her rational side told Donna that she was letting her loneliness and emotions drag her down a path that wasn't what was best for her or for her family. It took rational-Donna to point out that she was fixated on Jax only because he was familiar and, with his womanizing ways, would be an easy sexual outlet.

Lightly dabbing at the beads of perspiration that had formed on her forehead with the dish towel, Donna chastised herself. She couldn't hide in the kitchen forever. Pulling up her big girl panties in preparation for her face off with the charming devil, Donna tried to remind herself why she was angry with him in the first place.

Unfortunately, naughty-Donna pushed rational-Donna away in order to mock her lame attempt at counteracting the fact that she was feeling like a nymphomaniac waiting for a ship full of sailors to dock.

 _That might be the case, but I'll be damned if I'm gonna let Jax know I feel like the slut puppy I know I am in my own home_ , Donna thought as she straightened her shoulders and stalked out of the kitchen.

* * *

Rounding the corner, Donna forced herself to swallow the sudden lump in her throat.

 _Damn, he looks so good this morning_.

Wearing a long-sleeved white t-shirt with a short-sleeved black SAMCRO t-shirt over it, dark wash baggy jeans, his kutte and his trademark white sneakers, Jax Teller made quite an impression as a picture of hot masculinity. With his hair still damp from his shower and slicked back, his bright blue eyes finally focused on hers.

 _Shit, she's looking really good_ , he thought as he smiled wistfully.

Wearing a pair of short-shorts, a light blue camisole and her dark hair framing her lovely face, the young mother was a sight for Jax's sore eyes, looking even better than when he had last seen her. The only thing marring the beautiful picture she made was the look in her eyes and her overall body language that screamed out that she wasn't exactly pleased to see him.

"Hey, Don."

"Hey." She replied, her tone distant and dry.

Fortunately, practically bubbling over in their excitement, the Winston children more than made up for the stony silence between them.

"We really missed you, Uncle Jax." Ellie said as she tucked herself into the crook of his arm. "Saturday mornings haven't been the same."

"Yeah, how come you stopped coming by?" Kenny all but whined. "Did we do something wrong?"

Hearing the young boy's question asked in earnest, Donna's eyes widened and then she scowled. That had been her greatest fear, having the children think they had done something that had made Jax want to stay away. After being confronted by pointed questions regarding their missing uncle, Donna had been angry and hurt that Jax had stopped coming by at least for her children's sake. The fact was that, over the years, Jax had become the only constant male presence in their lives and, as small children tend to do, they had grown rather attached to the man they considered a part of their family. More so than they ever had with their own father. Little did they know that she was the only one to blame for his abandonment.

"No, Kenny, of course not." Jax bent down to look his nephew in the eye in order to drive the point home. "I just got tied up in a lot of shit, that's all, bud. I did call a couple of times, but you guys had already checked out for the night."

"Well, you have to stay this morning 'cause _I'm_ making the waffles!" Ellie proclaimed proudly. "Mom is teaching me."

Straightening up, Jax's shoulders tensed as he saw Donna square hers. "That sounds like an awesome treat," He stated, looking directly at Donna. "I'd love to stay, if that's okay with your Mom."

Donna wanted to yell at him to get the hell out of her house. How dare he just show up unannounced and uninvited after treating her and the kids worse than a colony of lepers for the past month? She shouldn't care that her babies were beaming at her expectantly like it was Christmas morning. What she should do is nip this attachment they had to the blond biker in the bud. After all, an ounce of prevention now was worth a pound of cure later.

That's what she should have done. In reality, even as angry as she was at him, Donna probably wanted Jax to stay more than the kids did.

"Ben's dad is picking Kenny up for soccer practice and Ellie has Girl Scouts at noon," Donna replied evenly and for a moment, she saw disappointment flash across Jax's face as he thought she was making excuses for him to leave right now. "So we need to get cooking." She finished and her heart nearly melted as Jax beamed her a goofy grin to match those on kids' faces.

* * *

Waving goodbye at her daughter's retreating back as Ellie ran towards the van holding the rest of her Girl Scout troop, Donna took a deep breath. Turning around to face Jax, she slammed the door shut. Leaning against it, the petite woman crossed her arms over her chest as she grimly eyed the tall and muscular biker in front of her.

The foursome had managed to have a nice breakfast together in spite of the eerie tension between the two adults. As Donna concentrated on teaching her young daughter the fine art of making waffle batter from scratch, Jax and Kenny had kept them company in the kitchen, joking and horsing around. Despite a couple of small spills, Ellie had done an excellent job her first time out and the group had settled down at the kitchen table, eating and laughing with the children finally melting the reserve between the two adults.

With breakfast time officially over and the children out of the house, now would have been the perfect time to get certain things straight between them. But as much as Donna wanted to take him to task for Ellie and Kenny's sake, the last thing she wanted to discuss was their couch encounter, leaving herself exposed for Jax to see how much the past month of neglect had really hurt her. Instead, the young widow decided to pin Jax down about the situation regarding Opie and the Club.

"It's been a month," She started.

Jax furrowed his brow, noting that she was looking more hurt than angry now. "Don, I'm sorry about—"

"Do you have anything to report?" Donna cut him off.

Jax raised an eyebrow. He couldn't really blame her for not wanting to discuss what had happened between them. After all, Jax still hated himself for crossing that line, but what surprised him was the disappointment he felt at being brushed off so easily. Even though her cold shoulder had him questioning the wisdom behind staying away for so long, he decided that at the moment he would follow her lead and to stick to the business at hand.

"Maybe we should sit down," Jax nodded towards the living room.

Donna froze. _No, no, no_ , she insisted to herself. Sitting on a couch with Jax Teller was definitely too dangerous. _The last time, my panties nearly evaporated!_

"I'm fine right where I am." Donna replied determinedly.

Running a hand over the hair on his chin, Jax walked towards her, noting how she instantly tensed up, but stood her ground, refusing to back away from him. Jax tried not to smirk, wondering if Donna realized that she wasn't any safer pinned against the door than sitting with him on the couch.

Donna, however, kept her eyes on Jax's, refusing to let them drift down to his beautifully shaped lips. _I'm a goner if do, I just know it_.

"Honestly, after we last spoke, things have stalled for me." He admitted. "I kind of lost focus for a while. It's been hard contemplating the possibility that the Club could be involved with Ope's death."

"Don't you mean _Clay_ could be involved?" Donna clarified.

Jax sighed. "Yeah. Our recent differences aside, over the years Clay has been not only a father to me, but my mentor as well. In spite of that, Donna," He reached out to gently tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear. "I promise you that I'm going to get to the bottom of this shit no matter how ugly it gets. Bringing the truth to light might end up destroying the Club as it is now and before I can do that, I have to get my own shit together. I don't expect you to understand any of what I'm saying, Don or to even care, but I need to know that I'll be ready to restore SAMCRO to its original purpose and I recently got some words of wisdom that I think will help me to do that."

Donna had nearly shivered at the touch of Jax's finger against her skin and struggled to keep her shit contained. Instead, she tried to concentrate on what he had said. "Wisdom from where?"

"My father JT."

She wrinkled her eyebrows. "I'm not following. He died, what, 15, 16 years ago?"

"Yeah, but he left behind a manuscript detailing his life and experiences in the MC. It's some pretty intense shit." Jax replied.

"And you think it will help?"

"Well, it's not exactly a how-to manual. It's a mix between an MC love-letter and a list of his failures and successes. It has opened my eyes to some deep shit about the life that I've chosen to live." Jax explained. "All the shit that has hit the Club sideways—our troubles with the ATF, Ope's death, some of the twisted decisions Clay has made recently—JT predicted it all and it all ends with most of us dead and the rest serving 25-to-life. He wanted to change that endgame for his brothers and had ideas on how to make it better, but didn't get the chance. He was right, though. The only way to fix it is to clean it from the inside out and to bring the Club to a place that isn't outlaw any more."

Donna moistened her lips. "That doesn't sound like an easy task, Jax. It sounds dangerous, like something that could get you killed. I don't know much about Clay, but he doesn't come across like a man who's interested in change. I have to think that anyone pushing for the type of change you're talking about could find himself going up against a very angry and powerful biker and I can't afford to lose someone else that I care about."

Jax grinned crookedly. "So you do care about me. I was starting to feel unloved."

Feeling her cheeks warm up, Donna shrugged her shoulders. "Maybe just a little bit." She hedged.

"A little bit, huh? Hey, I'll take it." He replied, his hand reaching for her hair once again. Stroking strands between his index finger and thumb, Jax continued. "Look, Don, I just need you to trust me. I know you want the truth like _right_ now, but I really need you to be patient for me for a bit longer."

Donna was in a quandary. The fact was that she had been planning to take her kids and leave Charming behind for a while now, a plan that no one knew about or even suspected. Not even her mother. Over the last six months, she had been steadily adding to the pile of cash she had put together for her "Get out of Charming" fund. With the majority of her bills paid off by the ATF, Donna had been putting the bulk of her earnings into an account she had opened in a bank in Lodi solely for that purpose.

Sitting in her car after Abel's party, with Clay Morrow's thinly veiled threats still ringing in her ears, she had been hard pressed not to give into the urge of packing up her family and hitting the road that night. Instead, after much consideration, she had confided in the one person she knew would have her back.

After hearing Jax's thoughts and plans for the future, Donna knew that now was not the time to bail on him. If he was truly serious about fixing his broken legacy while working to find out the truth about Opie's death, she knew he would need her support. Remembering the promise she had made several months ago to never bail on her family again, the fact of the matter was that to her and her children Jax _was_ their family now.

"Okay, I can be patient." Donna replied. "I'll let you take the lead on this and handle things your way."

Jax almost sighed with relief as he realized that Donna was going to support him. When he really considered it, the outlaw biker wondered why he had been so worried that Donna wouldn't trust him to do the right thing.

But that feeling was short-lived as Donna suddenly pinned her eyes on him like a set of laser beams. "But you need to do something for me now."

 _Tear your clothes off and jump_ _on_ _your ass_? Jax hoped fervently and internally face-palmed himself, remembering that the woman in front of him was his best friend's widow.

He swallowed the sudden lump in his throat. "Anything you want, darlin'."

Donna stepped into his personal space, surprising him as she used her index finger to stab him in the chest.

 _A supremely well-defined chest._ Donna tried to smack down her twitchy libido.

"If you can help it, _don't_ miss another Saturday breakfast again, asshole." She demanded. "It's obvious that my kids love you and need to see you on the regular."

"A'ight," Jax smiled. "I think I can handle that. Anything else?"

"What else could there be?"

Seeing that she was not willing to discuss what had happened between them, Jax decided to quit while he was ahead. For now.

"Nothing, I guess." Jax's eyes never left her face as he stretched his arm around her to grab the door handle, intentionally pulling her towards him, just a hair's breath away from his body. "I'll see you next week." He whispered.

Bending down to place a slightly lingering kiss on her forehead, Jax smiled as he heard the young woman swallow a gulp as he headed out the door.

Donna stood poised in the doorway as she watched the young outlaw biker swagger down her walkway to his bike. Closing the door behind her as she heard the sound of the pipes on his bike trail down the street, she let out the shaky breath she had been holding as she placed a hand on her rapidly beating heart.

_Fuck! And I can't wait._

* * *

It was a weary and bone-tired Jax who finally got to park his ride in front of his house after a long day. As he cut the bike's engine, he sighed heavily, noting that keeping his nanny's car company, which was parked in his driveway, was his mother's Caddy parked at the curb. And that was the last thing he wanted to see.

Considering how shitty a week it had been for him, it had been a pretty upbeat biker who had shown up at the warehouse after leaving Donna's to help finalize assembly of the last shipment of AKs. Even Chibs had noted his good mood and heartily approved.

His father's manuscript could not have come into his possession at a better time. After reading it and seeking out Donna's support, Jax felt much of the load he had been carrying since Opie's death lift from his shoulders and he could breathe again. Jax was a thinker and he always worked better when he had a plan. JT's manuscript was just the blueprint he needed to help him formulate a plan going forward. It felt good to be somewhat in control again.

But now Jax grimaced slightly as he made his way up the walkway. His sanctuary—his castle—had been invaded once again by the Dragon Queen of Charming and a late night was about to get even later as he stepped foot inside the threshold. He hoped that Gemma was only there to spend a little more time with her grandson and not in full interrogation mode, but he knew better. And, unfortunately, the moment his eyes landed on his mother, he could tell that he was in for something.

Sitting on one of the leather couches in the living room, Gemma Teller-Morrow rocked her grandson in her arms as she tried to get him to settle down for the night after finishing a bottle. Having missed Jax this morning at the Clubhouse and with him up at Blue Bird all day, this would be the first opportunity she'd had all day to talk to him. In spite of the well-meaning advice given to her by the Club's resident-therapist, Dr. Elvis, Gemma was determined to get to the bottom of whatever was going on with her son.

"Hi, Ma. Hey, Little Man," Jax sauntered over to his mother and retrieved his young son, who cooed and flailed his arms in the air at the sight of his father. "I'm sorry I'm so late, Neeta. Thanks again for hanging out."

The big-hearted woman, a recent parolee after serving nine years in Chowchilla, smiled at the young man as he kissed and nuzzled the fine blond hair on his son's head. "It's no problem at all. Besides, I had company." She replied, referring to Gemma.

Neeta was not a not a stupid sister. As she eyed the matriarch of the biker club, she realized that now was as good a time as any to get the hell out of Dodge. Grabbing her handbag and keys, Neeta headed for the door. "I'll see you Monday at 8:00."

As Jax walked Neeta out, Gemma stood up to face her son who, after closing the front door, headed towards the nursery, intensely focused on his son. Following close behind, Gemma watched as Jax settled himself into the rocking chair with Abel still in his arms.

Looking at the two future presidents of SAMCRO, Gemma felt her emotions tugging at her heartstrings. She loved them so much that on some levels she herself knew it bordered on obsession. After all, they were all she had left on this earth that linked her with her first old man, the love of her life. Thinking of John Teller and remembering what she had seen this morning, Gemma decided to jump right into interrogation mode.

"I saw you in the Clubhouse this morning."

"Oh, yeah?" Jax replied noncommittally as he jiggled his son to make him laugh.

"Yeah. I had just come out of Clay's office." She hesitated, but then pressed on. "You were standing by your dad's bike looking like you had a lot on your mind." She ventured. "Anything you want to talk about, sweetheart?"

"No, not really." He replied offhandedly, most of his attention fixated on his boy.

Seeing her son's shoulders tense slightly, Gemma's eyes narrowed. There was definitely something going on and when it came to the subject of JT and Jax, Gemma's instincts tended to be overly-sensitive.

John Teller had been the love of her life. He had been the right combination of handsome and book smart. An opinionated and stubborn hot head, he had been a man who was fiercely loyal to his Club and his brotherhood. Gemma had been 18 when they first met and, at 39, the worldly biker had literally rocked her world. But the man she had fallen madly in love with and the husband she had buried were two radically different men. The death of their youngest son Thomas had set JT on a downward spiral from which he never recovered. By the time the semi had run him off the 580, JT had turned into a man steeped in depression, fear, paranoia and regret. Even though Gemma knew the truth behind his death, it could have very well been ruled a suicide by Harley because those that knew him well knew that he had lived his last months as a man looking for a way to die.

It scared Gemma to death that she could see so much of his father in Jax. He was good-looking, smart, kind-hearted, and violent, but what the SAMCRO Queen feared the most was that he had also inherited JT's emotional tendencies. After Opie's death, Gemma grew monumentally concerned that what she was witnessing in her son was a mental break down.

During the last six months, Jax's life had literally hit the skids. His personal life was in a shambles and the Club and his seat at the table had seemed to have fallen from his list of priorities. If she allowed it to continue unchecked, the damage he was doing to himself could prove permanent.

 _And deadly_.

But deep down Gemma knew her son. He had already overcome so many losses in his life and she had no doubt that he would overcome this one as well. She _knew_ that, given the time, he was more than capable of handling his shit. But with the Club in its current state of uncertainty, Gemma wasn't sure that time to get his shit together was a luxury Jax could count on. She had heard Bobby loud and clear. He had even made some valid points, but as the potbellied patch had never pushed a child out of his own vagina, he didn't know shit about a mother's love. Bobby—especially Clay **—** no one knew what lengths she would go to in order to keep her baby safe.

Jax eyed his mother. She was on a fishing expedition and the last thing he wanted to do was share the discovery of his father's legacy with her or the effect it was having on him. As much as he loved his mother, Jax knew that her love for the Club could be just as strong as her love for him. After leaving home at 16, the MC had been the only family she had known since. Letting Gemma into his head and sharing his possible plans for re-shaping SAMCRO would only end up in Clay's ear and he was nowhere near ready to tackle that situation. Not when he shared Donna's doubts about Ope's death.

"You know you can talk to me about anything, right, baby?" Gemma pressed. "I was just a little concerned when you rushed out of the Clubhouse. You looked like you were in a hurry."

Thinking to distract her with another topic of conversation, the young biker inadvertently threw his best friend's widow under the bus. "I was. I wanted to stop by and see Donna and the kids before I headed up to the warehouse." He said, still looking at his drowsy son.

Gemma's eyes widened. _And the other fuckin' shoe drops_.

With over 18 years of experience in reading her son after the little shit had hit puberty, Gemma's bullshit meter was tuned to perfection. Knowing Jax's propensity for allowing his dick to go on the hunt for pussy, she realized from his body language that there was more than just brotherly interest in the young widow. And it gave her pause.

_Just what he needs, another damsel in distress tugging at his emotions._

The SAMCRO matriarch made it her business to keep all of the SAMCRO old ladies in line, but in spite of her best efforts she never managed to get Donna Winston under her thumb. The young woman was fiercely independent and had made it a practice to stay out of the reach of her husband's Club. And Gemma despised her because of it.

It was nothing personal, but as far as an old lady for her son went, Gemma wanted someone definitively stronger than Tara Knowles, but definitely not spine-of-steel strong like Donna Winston. Wendy Case was the happy medium. Too weak to take Gemma head-on, but strong enough not to cower in a Clubhouse full of MC groupies and whores.

Whatever Jax had cooking with Donna, Gemma decided that she needed to put a stop to it before it got serious. "Is something going on between you two?"

His head snapping up to look at Gemma, Jax raised an eyebrow. "Are you fuckin' kidding me with this shit?"

"No. I'm not. Not if you're now feeling the need to 'save' Donna from whatever troubles she's going through. I know you, Jackson. Damsels-in-distress get you hard. They're your fuckin' kryptonite." Gemma retorted derisively. "First it was Tara and her drunk daddy issues; then it was Wendy and her crank addiction; and now it's what, Donna's fatherless children? Or maybe it's the widow herself that's caught your attention. After all, you're not exactly known for letting good pussy go to waste. Maybe it was too much to hope that you had worked that shit out with the prison clause. After all, you had five years to indulge in that particular pussy."

Gemma's eyes widened in fear as the crazy look slowly took root in her son's eyes as he realized what she was implying. Getting up to gently place his now-sleeping son in his crib, Jax stalked over to his mother and snatched her up by her shoulders and off the daybed she had been sitting on to give her a good shake.

"Exercising the prison clause?! With Donna?! Why the fuck would you say something like that?!"

Gemma was truly at a loss for words. "I, uh, everybody knows."

"Knows _what_?!" Jax raged, his voice more terrifying as a rough whisper.

Gemma pulled herself out of her son's strong hold. "Oh come, Jax! All the time you spent 'visiting' Donna while Opie was in Chino. That shit was all over the fuckin' Clubhouse. The only reason I didn't say anything about it was because Donna kept herself away from the Club. Fuckin' hypocrite acted like the dirty biker clan was beneath her when all along she was banging her old man's best friend."

The Old Lady Gossip Mill would be surprised to know that Gemma had been completely aware of what they believed had been Donna's secret affair with Jax. It was a rare occasion that anything ever happened involving her son with Gemma not knowing about it first. Stupid heifers, the whole lot of them. Who did they think put that bit of fluff on the rumor mill?

But now seeing her son's flared nostrils and hands clenched into tight fists, Gemma belatedly realized that she had made a huge error in judgment in using that bit of Intel against Donna Winston. Not when she had a champion in Jax Teller defending her honor.

"You practically raised Ope. He was my brother even before we joined the Club and you really thought that I would sleep with his wife while he was in Chino?!" Jax raged through gritted teeth.

 _Oh, fuck! Did Ope hear this gossip bullshit before he died_? _Believed it?_ Jax wondered bleakly. He was suddenly overwhelmed with guilt. Did the timing really matter? After all, now that Opie was gone, all he could think about was bedding his widow. _What kind of a piece of shit am I?_

Gemma's heart sank in her chest at the look of utter devastation on her son's face. _God, what was I thinking?_ Gemma thought, realizing she had just royally screwed up with her son.

"Jax, I—" She started.

"Get out." He snarled, his nostrils flared.

"Jax—"

"I. SAID. GET. OUT!"

Backing out of the room, Gemma quickly detoured to the living room to grab her handbag before tearing out of her son's house. Pissed for dropping the dime on herself, Gemma stomped on the gas as she headed home.

* * *

It was fast approaching 11:00 p.m. and Clay was relaxing in his bed as he waited for his wife, a shot of Jack in one hand and a copy of the local paper in the other.

Life, for him, was good. In spite of recent hiccups, it finally looked like things were going to settle back into a reasonable routine within the Club, just like he had promised his SAA they would.

Admittedly, the last year had been a pretty turbulent time for the Club. Ever since the destruction of their gun warehouse by the Mayans, SAMCRO had been falling out of one shit storm and into another, but that was the outlaw life. Peaks and valleys. There were periods of time that were quiet and prosperous and then—BAM!—shit would suddenly hit the fan.

It had been over seven years since the last time Clay had served time for gun-running. Still in his prime, he was definitely too old to go back to prison, so it was good to know that the A, T and fuckin' F were officially off of the Club's collective ass.

 _There's only Jackson left to sort out_.

It was obvious that he and the boy were butting heads a lot, and Clay didn't like it one bit. He had hoped that letting Jax terminate Opie's "killer' would get his stepson to settle down a bit, but it was obvious that he was not completely back in the saddle just yet.

Clay knew that he needed to do whatever he could to bring the young man closer to him. He had to get Jax to leave the shit about Opie in the rear view. Now that Abel was out of the hospital and healthy, the time for Jax slacking off had to be put to bed. He needed to get his focus on the Club and on the profitable gun-running business that has allowed the Club to earn well for over 20 years.

Hearing the door slam downstairs, Clay grinned.

 _Mama Bear's home_.

Putting his drink and the paper down, Clay wondered if he might be able to charm his woman into giving him a little head tonight. However, seeing her storm into their bedroom, he knew at once that his Queen was not happy and probably wouldn't be in the mood to suck his dick.

"You're not going to like this." She declared.

Clay crossed his powerful arms, his biceps looking like large canons. "What am I not going to like?"

Gemma tossed her handbag at the foot of the bed, kicked off her heels and settled on her side of the bed, lying down across her husband's lap.

 _Hey, at least she's in the right position_ , Clay grinned. However, the grin fell off his face as his old lady began to relate the argument she had just had with her son.

 _Donna_ _-_ _fuckin'_ _-_ _Winston_ , Clay growled to himself.

He could have sworn that he had put that shit to bed after his little talk with the young widow at his grandson's welcome home party. Apparently, judging from Gemma's raving, Donna might be working an angle that did not include letting sleeping dogs lie.

Women and their tight pussies had a way of making a man lose sight of what was important. If Jax was putting the Club in a threatening situation over some piece of ass, Clay needed to know about it. He couldn't let a simple involvement with the wrong woman blow back on him.

Clay put on a great show of looking like he was listening to his old lady ramble on and on as to why Donna was the wrong fit for her son. He had a potentially serious problem brewing on his hands and needed to act from a place of knowledge and not pure instinct. But he wasn't John Teller. He didn't analyze shit to death and then think about it some more. Clay Morrow was a man used to listening to his gut and his gut usually called for blood.

From his perspective, he was dealing with two separate issues that, if combined, could result in some serious shit hitting the fan. Over the last month or so, when Jax had decided to grace the table with his presence, he may have been around physically, but he wasn't completely there. He did what was required of him, but Clay could see that Jax's head was not in the game and, apparently, now he knew the reason why.

Clay _had_ to keep Jax focused on the Club. He had no issue if his stepson wanted to bang everything that moved, but a serious involvement with a woman could pull his focus away from what was important, namely making money for the Club, which Jax was very good at. Even worse was if that serious involvement was with Opie's widow, who had proven to have a knack for stirring shit up that was best kept dead, buried and forgotten.

 _Who the fuck knows what she's already told Jax_ , Clay reasoned.

Now more than ever Clay was going to have to keep a closer tab on his VP, but Clay tried to play it cool with his wife. "I have to admit I don't like the sound of this, but there's no reason for you to start setting fires when there's nothing to burn."

"But—"

"But what, Gem? Instead of exercising the prison clause like you thought he was doing five years ago, Jax is _now_ giving it to the merry widow. Let him have his fun. That's probably the last piece of tail left in Charming that he hasn't tapped, so let him get it out of his system." Clay said. "Besides, I think that what's really bothering you is that your timing was off."

"My timing was not off. With all his righteous indignation, Jax never once denied it happening five year ago." Gemma groused. She looked at her husband, surprised that he didn't seem as worried as she thought he would be. "That shit's in the past. What matters is what's going on with them _now_. After the Opie mistake, them hooking up has gotta be the last thing you want."

"You're right about that, but I'm not sure there's anything _you_ can do about it." In her haste to reply, Gemma missed the slight emphasis Clay had used.

"Well, something needs to be done."

"Yeah, you need to apologize to Jax for a start."

"What?!" Gemma sat up to eye her old man.

"Dropping that shit in his ear prolly didn't do much except put you on his bad side and, if we want to keep him whole, that is NOT where you need to be. Alienating your son and my VP is not the best play for us." He pointed a finger at her.

"Maybe you're right." She acknowledged begrudgingly.

"No maybes about it, sweetheart. I need you to kiss and make up with Jax ASAP." Clay ordered. "And for now, just keep an eye on the Donna situation." The SAMCRO President smiled engagingly at his old lady. "Trust me, Gem. Like everything else, eventually, this too will get handled."

_Even if I have to 'handle' it myself._


	10. A Horse of a Different Color

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy.**

* * *

Sitting at her desk in T-M's office, Gemma ran her French-manicured fingers through her platinum-streaked head of dark brown hair as she puffed on a cigarette. Feeling a headache coming on, she pinched the bridge of her nose as she tried to gather her thoughts for the conversation she had finally let Clay convince her she needed to have with her son. It was quickly approaching noon and her intention had been to catch up with Jax in his dorm as soon as she had arrived in the morning, but was swamped with work the minute she had stepped into the office.

The paperwork she was now shuffling through, although important, could wait, but Gemma now found that she was in no hurry to eat crow in order to kiss and make up with Jax. Why couldn't her pig-headed son understand that all she was really guilty of was worrying too much about his and Abel's well-being? Flipping through the stack of repo orders that had just come in by fax, Gemma took one last puff of her smoke and angrily ground it out in the ashtray by the computer keyboard. Jax had pointedly missed Sunday dinner this week and Gemma's heart clenched in her chest at the thought that his empty seat at her table would become the norm if she didn't find a way to make amends, wrong or right.

Dropping the repo orders into the overflowing inbox to be dealt with later, Gemma pushed her chair away from the desk and stood up. She could see Jax through the open blinds of the windows by the door leading into the garage from the office. With her arms crossed over the front of the snug white button-down shirt she wore with a black, fringed suede vest, dark wash skinny jeans and knee-high stiletto lace up boots, Gemma watched her son as he worked on an engine block from a Toyota Camry.

The Queen of Charming was not exactly known for being a humble or meek old lady. As the doctor bitch had so bluntly stated to her very face, Gemma knew that she could practically do or say anything in Charming and get away with it.

 _And there's no fuckin' shame in that_ , Gemma thought with a hint of pride. _After all, I've paid my dues too and have earned that shit._

But even though being the Queen of Charming had its privileges, apparently she couldn't say or do anything and expect to get away with it when it came to Jax. The thought of facing her pissed off son and asking for his forgiveness was daunting. The very real fear that her only surviving son wouldn't forgive her and in fact hated her twisted her gut until she felt on the verge of throwing up. No one mattered to her like Jax did. _No one_. Clay may have his own agenda in wanting her to make nice with Jax, but Gemma had her own as well. She couldn't run the risk of losing the only thing she had left in this world that she loved above all else.

Even though it didn't help her queasy stomach that they would have an audience of mechanics and other Club members witnessing her comeuppance, Gemma needed to make things right with Jax and she needed to do it now. With Jax refusing to let himself get pulled into her orbit, going so far as avoiding his own home whenever she dropped by for a visit with her grandson, there was no way she'd ever get to do it privately. Gemma had no choice in the matter other than to beard the lion in his den, the only place he would tolerate her—the T-M lot.

Steeling herself for her son's possible rejection, Gemma opened the door and entered the garage. She was quickly greeted warmly by several of the mechanics, prompting Jax to look up from his work. With his brow furrowed into what she knew was a petulant scowl, Jax turned his back and continued working.

 _Yeah, of course the little shithead's not gonna make this any easier for me_ , Gemma thought as she swallowed the lump in her throat.

Approaching the engine block, Gemma had to fight with herself to keep from nervously twisting the rings on her fingers, knowing that all eyes—except for one piercing blue pair—were focused on her.

"Hey, Jackson," Gemma started, speaking to the back of her son's blond head. She could see his shoulders instantly tense underneath his T-M work shirt at the sound of her voice, but he made no move to acknowledge her presence. "Jax, can I talk to you for a minute?"

"I'm busy." Came his gruff reply, his right hand working a socket wrench furiously.

"All I need is a minute, baby—"

Heaving a frustrated sigh, Jax dropped the wrench onto the oil-stained concrete floor of the bay he was working in. "What, Ma?" He asked annoyed as he turned to look directly into his mother's eyes.

It was a good thing she had decided to wear her beloved boots with the four inch heels. Otherwise, she would find herself staring up and into that icy glare he had perfected on her throughout the years. Even though today was the first time he had parted his lips to speak to her since kicking her out of his house nearly a week ago, she was still his mother, damn it, and Gemma didn't appreciate the attitude.

"Are you gonna keep being an asshole about this?" Gemma winced as her snarky side came out.

_Great way to start off an apology, bitch!_

"And I don't have the right to be?" The SAMCRO VP folded his arms across his broad chest.

Gemma's eyes bounced around the wall behind Jax, avoiding the hurt look in his, before begrudgingly looking at him straight on. "I guess you do."

Her candid and unexpected reply nearly knocked him off his feet.

The fact was that Jax still seethed with anger every time he thought about his last confrontation with his mother. His refusal to give her the time of day was the least deadliest thing he could think of doing to her. What he had wanted to do was throttle her within an inch of her life for thinking he would betray his best friend since the cradle by fucking his old lady while Ope was in prison. To think that his own mother thought he was capable of hurting someone he loved that way had nearly destroyed him.

The only thing worse was not knowing for sure if his best friend had heard the rumors. And if he had, did he believe Jax capable of such vile shit, too? For the next week, Jax examined and re-examined every conversation he had had with Opie during the two months between his parole from Chino and his death. Jax obsessed over every word they had spoken, looking for clues that Opie believed that Jax had exercised the prison clause with his wife, the mother of his children.

His agony was only further compounded when Jax forced himself to recognize that five years ago, on some deep, dark level, he _had_ wanted Donna. In his mind, this made him just as guilty of betrayal as if he had actually slept with her. With this new knowledge burning a hole in his gut, facing Donna and the kids for their ritual Saturday breakfast made him feel like a cheat and a fraud. As difficult as that had been, however, the thought of disappointing Donna to the point where she would have shanked him for sure the next time she saw him forced Jax to keep his promise to her.

It finally dawned on Jax that he and Donna being the choicest piece of gossip on the Club's rumor mill went a long way in explaining why she had pulled away from him during the last couple of years of Opie's time in Chino. At the time, Jax had been hurt and couldn't understand why Donna had backed away from him and shut him out of her life after he had been there for her, but now it made perfect sense. Knowing Donna, who had never been interested in finding a place for herself in the Clubhouse, she had probably pushed him away to protect Jax and his friendship with Opie. Donna was probably the only true friend Jax had left.

_And what the fuck did I do to thank her? I jump her ass in her own home barely five months after her husband was put into the fuckin' ground._

Already serving as his own whipping boy—and fucking tired of it—Jax had directed his rage and anger at the next available target, the one person, aside from Opie, he believed would always have his back. Jax was more than disappointed in learning that Gemma knew about the rumors five years ago and never told him until now, especially since she couldn't seem to keep herself from getting involved his life 24/7. It hurt him in a place Jax thought he had learned to protect from the women in his life during the last eleven years: his heart.

Apparently, however, Gemma had grown weary of being his punching bag and was now prepared to force a reconciliation by apologizing.

_Doesn't mean I have to make it easy for her._

"Do you have any idea what this shit has done to my fuckin' head?" Jax asked resentfully.

"I can imagine, baby, and I'm sorry for my part in it. My intention was never to hurt you with this shit. I wanted to protect you."

Jax chuckled bitterly. "Really? You kinda fell down on the job there, Ma. I mean, if you believed the rumors, why didn't you come to me and try shaking some sense into me? You knew how much Ope loved Donna. It's a miracle he didn't kill me for shit I didn't even do."

Gemma put a hand on his shoulder. "Jax, I think the fact that we're standing here having this conversation should be proof enough that Ope didn't know. And even if he had, Opie loved you and trusted you with his life. He knew you would no more press up on Donna than he would have pressed up on Wendy." She reached out to cup one cheek with a hand, using the other to tuck his hair behind his ear. "And as your mother, I should have known it, too. You may be a pussy magnet, but you're too loyal of a man to do that kind of shit. I am so sorry I allowed myself to believe otherwise."

Looking into her dark brown eyes, Jax could see that his mother was truly remorseful. Pulling her to him, he wrapped her in a bear hug, only pushing away enough to kiss the back of her hand. "I'm sorry, too. Shit, Ma. Sometimes I don't know what the fuck to do with you."

"There's not much you can do, you little shithead." Gemma murmured, trying to stop her eyes from leaking tears. "You're stuck with me, so you better get used to it." She pulled away and swatted at Jax's head as he playfully rolled his eyes. "I'll see you later?"

Jax flashed his mother the patented Teller smile. "You bet."

* * *

The day had started out mild, which was unusual this early in the season for Northern California. As the morning turned into early afternoon, the temperature rose considerably with the sun blazing high in a picture perfect sky. Gemma could see the heat rising from the blacktop of the garage's parking lot as she leaned against the open doorway leading into the office in hopes of cooling off. Whatever breeze had been blowing earlier, however, had gone from cool and comforting to hot and sticky around noon. Deciding she needed to get away from the stifling heat in the office for a little while, Gemma called on Chibs to take over for her and headed for her car.

At first, Gemma contemplated treating herself to a mani-pedi, just in case the warm weather decided to stick around and she needed to break out her collection of strappy, high-heeled sandals. Not in the mood for the mindless chatter of the stay-at-home moms that flooded the nail salon at this hour before the kiddies got out from school, Gemma decided against it.

What she desperately needed, aside from some fresh air, was a sounding board for all the shit she wanted to get straight in her head. Even though she had managed to placate her son and they had kissed and made up, Gemma still found herself wrapped up in the need to make some sense of Jax's personal life for him as it became clear to her that the young biker was hell bent on repeating the same mistakes again.

Not being able to reach Jax on his prepay, Tara had called T-M's offices that morning looking for him. Not having laid eyes on the doctor bitch since Abel's homecoming, Gemma had hoped that the woman had finally fallen off her son's radar. If that had been the case, however, it seemed like Tara Knowles was working hard to get herself back on. Gemma smirked to herself as the good doctor explained she was having car troubles again and was hoping Jax could help her out.

The old damsel-in-distress routine had proven a sure-fire winner for Tara in the past, but unfortunately, she was shit out of luck today. Gemma had taken great pleasure in letting her know that Jax was out of town on business and not expected back any time soon. Instead of asking if there was another mechanic available that could help her out, Tara had hung up with a barely audible good-bye.

 _That bitch is so full of shit_ , Gemma thought as she hung up the phone. _And so desperately phony it's almost pathetic_.

Picking up the phone again, Gemma had called Luann and, on a whim, asked her out to lunch. Big Otto's old lady was in the middle of editing another one of her "masterpieces" and declined, but invited her over to Cara Cara so they could catch up while she worked. Clay gave Gemma a wide berth to function as she saw fit, especially when it came to maintaining her relationships with other old ladies. That being said, he did draw the line at Gemma hanging out at the "cum-factory", as he so eloquently called Luann's studio. So it was a good thing that not only was Jax out of town attending to business, but so was Clay.

What her old man didn't know wouldn't hurt _her_ and that's how Gemma found herself sitting in the cutting room at Cara Cara Productions with Luann and her film editor. As Luann worked to slice and splice what looked to be a porn parody of "Mad Men", Gemma rattled on and on for the next half hour about her son Jackson and how she nearly destroyed their relationship by jumping to conclusions about his relationship with Donna Winston.

"I can't really say I blame him for being upset with you." Luann stated as she tapped the shoulder of her editor with a barefoot sporting pink glitter polish to get his attention, shaking her head at the images on the large computer screen. "You just need to leave that shit alone."

"Well, fuck you very much, Luann." Gemma said angrily. "And for the record, I will not leave shit alone, so you need to be my friend and help me figure this out."

"I am being your friend, sweetie. You barely got your ass out of the fire with Jax this time around. You're good now and he even came over for Sunday dinner," Luann advised as if this would be news to Gemma. "You should be happy about that."

"Of course I am," Gemma groused, barely cutting herself short from calling Luann an idiot. "And it's not Sunday dinner that concerns me. It's what he's doing with his Saturday mornings that's the problem." She stated. Leaning back in her chair, Gemma lit a joint.

"Bikers will be bikers, Gem." Luann replied, thinking that Gemma meant something related to recovering from a hangover. "Most of them are barely functional the day after their Friday night debauchery. It's what they all do."

"Oh, really?" Gemma started as she passed the joint to Luann and folded her arms across her chest. "So you mean to tell me the _entire_ Club gathers at Donna Winston's house for Saturday morning breakfast, too?" She asked sarcastically.

Luann's wide blue eyes tripled in size as she nearly choked on her toke. Smacking her editor with her foot again, she motioned for him to pause what he was doing. "What are you saying, Gemma? Is he _really_ fucking the Widow Winston?" She turned to look at Gemma.

Gemma quickly sat up in her seat and angrily wagged her ringed-index finger in front of Luann's face. "Don't you—shit, Luann! Get that thought out of your fuckin' head!" She demanded. The last thing she needed was for more rumors that could be linked back to her getting to her son. It had barely been three days since she had finally made it back into Jax's good graces. "That's not what I meant, so don't go spreading that shit around."

"Okay, okay," Luann threw her hands up in surrender. "But the only time I've ever made a man breakfast is after a really good pounding the night before, so you need to explain yourself." She waved at her editor to keep going as she took several quick puffs and handed the joint back to Gemma.

Grimacing at the action on the screen as a baby-faced blonde woman smacked the bare ass of a half-naked businessman with a shoe while swilling from a bottle of vodka, Gemma tried to get her mind back on what was important.

Sitting back in her chair, she let out a heavy sigh. "He wants to be there for Opie's kids. He _promised_ them that he would be a part of their lives, so on Saturday mornings, before heading out on Club business, he heads over to the Winstons' for breakfast with them."

"Those poor kids," Luann shook her head sympathetically, her eyes never leaving the screen. "Growing up without a father. I can see why Jax would do something like that."

"He loved Ope." Gemma agreed.

"Yeah, he did, but he knows what it's like to lose a dad, too."

"Maybe, but he had Clay."

"Yeah, and _maybe_ that's why he's doing this for Donna's kids. Having a male presence in their lives makes all the difference in the world to a child. I think it's great what Jax is doing."

"You _would_." Gemma rolled her eyes sarcastically.

"And why are you so upset? You raised your son well, Gem. He has a good heart."

Gemma bore holes into the back of Luann's head with her mighty death glare. "I can't believe you can be so naïve and still run a successful porn business." She replied incredulously. "My Jax does have a good heart, _especially_ when it comes to Ope's kids, but he's still a pussy-loving man, Luann. How long you think before he starts tapping Donna, for real this time?"

"Good for her!" Luann exclaimed as Gemma huffed, smirking as she shook her head. She should have known better than to discuss the Donna situation with the sex-loving Porn Queen, who would inevitably support the notion of somebody—anybody—getting some one way or another. "And good for him, too." She added.

"What?!" Gemma nearly fell out of her chair. "In what universe is the idea of the SAMCRO VP hooking up with Donna Winston, the widow of his best friend, a good thing?"

"In this one, sweetheart," Luann looked over her shoulder to flash Gemma a cheeky smile. "The SAMCRO universe. It seems to have worked out just fine for you and Clay—" She trailed off in a sing-song voice.

Gemma narrowed her eyes at Luann. "You fuckin' bitch." She growled. Still scowling at the younger woman, Gemma took another hit off her joint as Luann giggled uproariously. "We're not talking about me here, so focus. Jax is in a very vulnerable place right now. It's bad enough he has the doctor bitch chasing him down. Him harboring feelings for Donna out of some twisted sense of obligation is not a good thing. I need to pin him down, get him to fix shit with Wendy before she decides to bolt."

Luann ran her hand through her blonde-streaked extensions. "Well, if you ask me—"

"I don't recall _asking_ you." Gemma retorted petulantly.

"Then why is your pretty little ass sitting in my chair, bitch?" Luann asked with a saccharine smile. Gemma huffed, but remained silent and Luann took that as consent to continue. "If you ask me, both of those chicken heads running after Jax are bad news. While in your opinion Donna may not be the obvious choice for Jax, she sure as shit is better than an ex-junky-slash-almost baby killer or some snooty doctor who didn't have the stones to stick with Jax their first time around."

"Are you fuckin' serious?"

"Just look at the facts, Gem." Luann prodded. "You just can't see it because you're too close to the situation, but you and Donna Winston are cut from the same cloth."

Gemma put her hand on her hip. "Luann Delaney, you must be hitting something way stronger than my weed. Are you coking up again?"

Now it was Luann's turn to glare at Gemma. "You know I've been clean ever since me and Otto hooked up, so don't be such a bitch because you're mad that I'm right."

While Gemma and Luann hung out together, they weren't what Gemma would call "best friends". Gemma's mother had pretty much ruined her when it came to developing close female friendships, but they were close. With Luann, at least Gemma knew she could always count on getting it straight, no sugarcoating, no bullshit. Luann was the only old lady not afraid to tell Gemma what was on her mind right to her face. Although Gemma sometimes wanted to smack her around—like now—that was one trait she did admire in people. Clay would say that Luann had been fucked stupid during her porn actress days and didn't know any better, but Gemma knew otherwise, believing it was wise to keep Luann on her good side.

"I get how you would think she's not old lady material. Even after all these years married to an outlaw, Donna's still a little too middle class, but that's where the differences between the two of you end." Luann continued. "She knows what it's like to lose a husband, first to prison and then to a bullet, yet she didn't crumble under the weight of all that. She's a great mom to her kids, which means she'd prolly make a better mom for Abel than his own. She waited around for Opie to get out of Chino all those years and the only man anyone ever saw her with was his best friend, his _brother_ Jax and we now know that nothing happened between them. She was loyal to her old man so you know she must have loved Opie to death. Some bikers can't trust that their old ladies won't dip out on them when they're on a fuckin' run. _And_ she's already been exposed to the Life, but never let herself be intimidated by the Club, the Feds or _you_. She never ran off on Opie when shit got real and she didn't cope with the Life by becoming some meth junky. The girl's got serious stones. Those are all Gemma traits right there."

Gemma bristled hearing Luann acknowledge that she knew Donna Winston was the one old lady she had failed to intimidate.

"Look, you know me, sweetie." Luann continued. "Ever since Otto went inside, I don't get mixed up in Club shit anymore. I just don't have the heart, the time or the interest, but Jax is gonna need a strong old lady supporting him when he takes over the gavel and I can tell you this, neither of them chicks pulling on him now are it. Seems to me that you need to rethink your strategy, pick a horse of a different color and back yourself a _real_ winner."

Turning her attention back to her editor, Luann suddenly screeched. "No, no, no, dipshit! Zoom in on his fuckin' crotch, will ya? You're missing the money shot here."

As the producer and her editor continued to argue the merits of a crotch shot verses focusing on the actor's "O" face, Gemma paid little attention as she chewed over what Luann had to say. On some level, Gemma had to admit that the crazy bitch had made some valid points, at least when it came to both Tara and Wendy. Neither woman was proper old lady material.

_But Donna? Really?_

The young woman had made it quite clear over the years that she had no interest in the Club that her husband had dedicated his life to. As a result, Donna existed outside Gemma's sphere of influence, something that had disgruntled the Queen of Charming on a number of occasions.

It was obvious that the young widow was strong-willed and determined, but could she really handle being in a relationship with another outlaw and all that entailed? Remembering Jax's visceral reaction to her accusations regarding his relationship with Donna, Gemma couldn't help but wonder if there was something going on between the two of them already.

 _And if that's the case, would that really be such a bad thing_? Gemma mused.

With Donna in a relationship with her son, it might prove easier for Gemma to bring the young woman into her orbit. It was just a fact of life that anyone woman that hooked up with Jax and took on the responsibility of raising his son had no choice but to toe the line with Gemma. There sure as hell was no room for another coward like Tara or a junky like Wendy in Jax's life, not when Gemma had every intention of seeing her son sitting at the head of the table once Clay stepped down. And Luann was certainly right about one thing. Once Jax assumed the presidency, he was going to need a strong old lady behind him.

Having resolved to give Luann's glowing recommendation of Donna Winston serious consideration, Gemma realized she would have to tread carefully with Jax going forward. Switching her support from Wendy to Donna this late in the race had the potential of blowing back on her and hard. The next time that happened, she wasn't sure if the infinite amount of love she had for her son would be enough to smooth things over with him. Again.

* * *

Listening to the soft rock pumping out of her speakers, Gemma was in deep thought as she made her way to the lot after getting her nails done in Lodi. It was a beautiful afternoon and with her windows rolled down, she was enjoying the scent of freshly cut grass. It had been a couple of days since her visit with Luann at Cara Cara and Gemma didn't think she'd ever get the smells of the cum factory out of her nostrils.

Gemma had spent many hours since her conversation with Luann dissecting everything the Porn Queen had said. She had made a solid case for the Winston Widow as a logical choice for Jax, but Gemma was no closer to figuring out how to go about sticking her nose in her son's business. Now that she was back in Jax's good graces, Gemma knew she needed to tread carefully. It was obvious that Jax would not tolerate anymore of her interference in what he deemed his personal business.

However, all such thoughts fled her mind entirely when she spotted the Winston family walking through the parking lot of the local supermarket with a cart of groceries. Realizing that her calling in life was to be a fierce mother, Gemma could not let this tailor-made opportunity to feel Donna out—hopefully, without making Jax any wiser—slip by. Quickly pulling into the lot, Gemma parked her Cadillac in an open space near to Donna's small sedan. Exiting her Caddy, Gemma headed towards the younger woman, who was already busy packing the groceries into the trunk.

"All right, you lil' boogers," Donna said in a tone that brooked no argument. "You can argue about what movie to watch once we get home. Finish loading the bags and get your butts in the car."

As her bickering son and daughter complied with her commands, Donna rolled her eyes at the pair of them. Ordering them to buckle their seatbelts as they climbed into the backseat, she was about to get into the driver's side when she heard the click-clacking of high heels behind her. Turning around, she tried to hide a grimace as she saw Gemma Teller-Morrow bearing down on her. She could already tell by the woman's attitude that she was in a snit about something.

_I have a feeling that this is going to turn into some shit that I really don't need right now._

After a particularly hectic day working at Oswald Construction, the last thing Donna was expecting was Gemma drama after her supervisor had cut her loose a couple of hours early. Deciding to help her mother out, Donna had picked her kids up from school, giving Kenny, Ellie, and their grandma a much needed break from each other. Thinking that it was the perfect time to get her food shopping out of the way, Donna was looking forward to getting home and having a nice quiet evening with her kids. She hoped that meeting up with the Queen of Charming wouldn't spoil that, but she knew better.

Donna hadn't seen Gemma since Abel's party, so she couldn't think what she could have done to get the SAMCRO matriarch bent out of shape, but it looked like she was going to find out. Taking the bull by the horns, she decided to open the conversation first.

"Hi, Gem. Nice to see you." She lied. "Doing a little shopping?"

Gemma eyed the petite brunette and noted the flip attitude. She could already see Donna's guard was up. She didn't like that. "Yeah, just a few items. And you?"

"Just finished the weekly shopping with the kids."

The Queen took a moment to wave hello at Kenny and Ellie before continuing. "It was nice seeing you and the kids at Abel's party."

"We were glad to be there and show Jax our support." Donna replied.

It was the perfect opening. "My son has the makings of a great father, wouldn't you say?"

Donna raised an eyebrow. "Yes, I would," She agreed cautiously. "But I guess that's something I've always known. My kids just love him, think he's the best thing since video games."

"And what about you?" Gemma asked archly. "I'm sure you have some appreciation for my son's talents."

Against her will, Donna's mind quickly lighted on the memory of Jax's kiss, which had left her breathless and aching with need. She tried to keep her face passive as her gut twisted at the thought of the blond biker's lips and hands on her, but seeing the calculating gleam in Gemma's eyes, Donna mentally chastised herself for letting Gemma catch her off guard.

Donna's back stiffened with tension. "I've always appreciated Jax. He's been a friend of the family for a very long time." She crossed her arms under her chest and eyed the SAMCRO matriarch, deciding to cut to the chase. "Where are you going with this, Gemma?"

"Whatever do you mean?" Gemma asked a little demurely. "I'm just making polite conversation. Besides, you and Jackson seemed to be getting along extremely well at Abel's party. You two looked really cozy in each other's company. I mean, I saw you holding my grandson," Gemma continued, taking note of Donna's suddenly pink cheeks. "And Abel looked quite at home in your arms."

"Abel's a beautiful and sweet baby." Donna replied evenly. "Wendy must be very proud to be his mother."

"Wendy?" Gemma smirked. "She's a part of his life, _for now_ , but she's definitely not mother material."

Donna cocked her head to the side, her arms folded tightly underneath her chest. "Why do I get the feeling that you're trying to tell me something?"

Wondering if she should put all of her cards on the table, Gemma placed a hand on her cocked hip. "Probably because you're a smart chick. You know that Jax and Abel are the two most important people in my life and I think that it would be obvious that as such, I would want them to have the best family possible. A loving mother for Abel and a strong old lady for my son."

"Neither of which has _anything_ to do with me." Donna denied just a tad too fast, Gemma noted with a smirk.

"Well, I wouldn't say that," She smiled. "I mean, I'm sure you realize that Jax and Abel would make a pretty great package deal and it's not like you and Jax haven't had experience playing house—"

The SAMCRO Queen was not prepared for the lethal glare that was aimed up at her. " _Excuse me_ , but you have some nerve insinuating that Jax has been anything but above board with me. I don't know what your game is, Gemma, but you have made a serious error in judgment if you're feeling the need to chase me away from Jax." Donna said ominously.

"Now just hold on for a damn minute," Gemma started, trying to placate the suddenly-riled up pixie. "You are clearly misunderstanding where I'm coming from—"

"No, you see, I don't think I am. I know _exactly_ where you're coming from, Gemma and I don't like it." Donna replied indignantly. "Whatever 'relationship' I have with Jax is none of your business! Jax and I have been friends since I started dating Opie back in high school and he's been a part of my kids' lives since before they were even born. When Ope was in Chino, Jax was the _only_ one of his brothers that cared enough to look after his kids. I don't know what rumors you've heard to the contrary," Her voice grew steadily louder the angrier she became. "But Jax was nothing if not a gentleman and a good friend to me during a difficult time and I will always love him for that, so I sincerely hope that you are not trying to stir shit up by insinuating otherwise. I am not some faithless MC whore that would exercise the 'prison clause' while her husband was serving time because of some misguided loyalty to a Club that turned their backs on his family!"

Donna was so livid, she felt herself get light-headed as she started to see red. Although her feelings towards Jax had become somewhat _complicated_ in recent weeks, she would be damned before she let Gemma know that. So imagine her surprise when Gemma finally managed to get a word in edgewise.

"I know all of that, Donna." Gemma replied evenly. "I also know that my son is being pulled in a dozen different directions—"

"And you are the worst offender by far." Donna interrupted. "Jax is a grown man and he doesn't need you interfering in his personal life."

"Okay, just stop right there before you finally say something that _really_ pisses me off." Gemma retorted. Shaking her head, she was starting to agree with Clay that maybe Luann had fucked her brains out.

 _How is this stubborn, argumentative, opinionated and pig-headed woman anything like me_ , Gemma thought without irony. Looking into Donna's defiant blue-green eyes, Gemma came to the realization that she was exactly what Jackson needed in a woman. Someone smart, loyal and unafraid to verbally slap some sense into him.

"All I'm saying is that Jax is being pulled in so many different directions that he gets distracted sometimes. In the Life, distraction could get him killed. After listening to you just now, I gather that's something you wouldn't want to see happen to him, right?"

Donna put her hands on her hips. "That is the most insensitive bull—"

Gemma put her hand up. "I'm gonna take that as a 'no' because I know you care about my son. I'm not gonna lie to you, Donna. I hated the thought of you and Jax together—"

Donna smirked. "Oh, but you've had a change of heart?" She asked sarcastically.

"I have," Gemma replied, shocking Donna into a stunned silence. _Finally_ , Gemma thought. _Maybe now I can get out what I've been wanting to say_. "I can tell when Jax has been around you and the kids. He's less distracted, happy even."

Donna quickly shook her head, as if trying to dislodge something that was keeping her from hearing correctly. "What are you saying, Gemma?"

"I don't know what it is about you, Donna. You're very pretty and all, but there's just something about you that grounds Jackson. He's loyal to a fault and I'm sure in a loving and committed relationship, he'd keep it in his pants and under reserve just for you. I think you two would be good for each other and maybe you should keep your mind open to being something more than _just friends_."

Gobsmacked.

Donna had never really had an occasion to use the word, didn't know what it meant really, but that's how she felt at the moment: completely and utterly gobsmacked.

Pinching the bridge of her nose, Donna slowly gathered her thoughts. No sense in making herself into more of a spectacle in front of her kids than she already had. She had never let her own parents call the shots in her relationship with Opie and she sure as hell wasn't going to allow Mother Gemma to manipulate any relationship she had with Jax, as friends or otherwise.

Ignoring her wide-eyed children, who now had their faces pressed up against the closed car window, Donna leaned in towards Gemma and in a quietly menacing growl gave it straight to the Queen of Charming. "Not that it concerns you, but Jax and I ARE _just friends_." She emphasized. "But _if_ I wanted Jax, there's only one person that could stop me from having him and that would be Jax himself. You may think you run shit in this town, but you don't control your son and he doesn't need you picking his women out for him. As for me, I'm not under your jurisdiction either, so you need to stay the hell out of my damn business."

Gemma arched one eyebrow as she crossed her arms. "Oh, okay. I hear ya, baby girl." She said gently, as if talking to a mental patient. "Well, enjoy the rest of your day." Forgetting about the so-called shopping she had to do, Gemma turned to walk back to her car, but stopped. "Oh, and just think about what I said. After all, there's no harm in considering that I might be right."

"What the fuck was that?" Donna sputtered under her breath as Gemma climbed behind the wheel of her Caddy and sedately pulled out of the parking lot.

 _No harm in Gemma being right? Really?!_ Donna felt like she had just stepped through a wormhole and ended up in an alternate universe.

"Mommy!" Donna snapped her head towards the car window, momentarily having forgotten about her children. "Can we go now? I'm hungry." Kenny whined.

Running her hand through her loose dark hair, Donna shook her head as she got into her car, still thoroughly confused and slightly pissed off, and drove off the lot, heading home.

So deeply engrossed in their battle of wills, neither Gemma nor Donna had noticed Tara Knowles standing at the entrance of the supermarket. With several shopping bags in hand, Tara had stopped dead in her tracks, unable—or unwilling—to process all that she had overheard.

* * *

Dr. Tara Knowles didn't care too much for the food served at the hospital cafeteria. Although it cut substantially into her break time, she much preferred waiting on the long line in Nikki's Corner Café over eating the slop that passed as sustenance at St. Thomas. Waiting patiently for her turn to order lunch, Tara occupied her mind by mulling over the argument she witnessed the day before between Gemma Teller and Donna Winston.

The last thing Tara had expected after working a double shift at the hospital was bearing witness to what was undoubtedly a battle of wills between the two women. Tara didn't care to keep up with the goings-on of her hometown, especially during her self-imposed eleven-year exile, but she could have sworn that, as Opie Winston's old lady, Donna would be more inclined to kiss Gemma's ass instead of taking a huge chunk out of it.

 _At least I now know that I'm not the only woman whose life Gemma Teller-Morrow enjoys making miserable_.

Ever since Tara's return to Charming, the Queen of Bikers was determined—and so far had succeeded—in keeping Tara at arm's length from her son, out of fear, no doubt, that a chance existed of them restarting their relationship. Getting involved with Jax Teller again had been the last thing on Tara's mind when she had moved back to Charming. There were just too many bad memories attached to the three years they had spent together, but she had to admit that a lot of her old feelings for the biker had awakened after she had volunteered to assist Dr. Namid with Abel's case.

Those feelings had only intensified, becoming even more complicated with Joshua Kohn's arrival in Charming. Jax had run interference and protected her from her ex-boyfriend-turned-stalker, eventually running him out of town. The fact that he still cared enough to do that for her had reminded Tara what it had felt like to be kept safe, protected and loved by the outlaw in the past. Back then, Jax would have killed for her if she had let him. The only danger she had faced back then had been her drunk of a father and, even though she had despised the man, Tara could never bring herself to let Jax do it, no matter how bad the beatings got.

Now with Joshua out of the picture, there was nothing to prevent Tara from returning to her old life back in Illinois. Her career had been on the fast track at Chicago Presbyterian and with Joshua now facing prison time after losing his job with the ATF, it was quite possible for her to leave Charming and start over. There was only one thing stopping her.

 _Jackson Teller_.

After overhearing the intense conversation between Gemma and Donna, however, it appeared that there was a third woman in the running for the biker's affections. Not only did it appear that Jax and Donna were already close, but it seemed that Gemma was willing to consider the young widow as a suitable replacement for Jax's soon-to-be ex-wife Wendy.

Tara didn't know what to make of Donna's reaction. In Tara's mind, it was seriously unlikely that Jax would be interested in a woman like Donna. After all, not only was she his best friend's widow, but she couldn't see Jax taking on the responsibility of raising another man's children, even if they were Opie's. He had enough on his plate with his own newborn son to raise. And although Tara had to begrudgingly agree with Gemma and admit that Donna was indeed very pretty, she just wasn't what Tara would call Jax Teller's "type".

 _Does she have two sets of lips? Then she's Jax Teller's type_ , Tara's own insecurities snarked at her.

Donna certainly had the balls to stand up and give it to the SAMCRO Queen, which had surprised Tara. But ultimately, only Tara had the kind of connection with Jax that could survive a decade apart. Not only had they been each other's first loves, but upon her return to Charming, _Doctor_ Tara Knowles had saved his son's life.

_That has to count for something, and I intend to make the most of it._

* * *

Finally picking up and paying for her lunch order, Tara made her way out of the café. About to turn up the block for the four-block trek back to St. Thomas, Tara wrinkled her brow as she saw a woman walking rapidly towards her. Recognizing her, Tara gave her a tentative smile as the woman came to a sudden halt in front of her.

"Uh, hi, Wendy." She eyed the young woman, noting that Wendy looked upset, almost agitated. "Are you looking for me? Is something wrong with Abel?"

Wendy took a deep breath, crossing her arms over her chest. "There's nothing wrong with Abel, but yeah, I was looking for you. I need to ask you a question." She nervously moistened her lips, afraid to ask the question she really didn't want the answer to, but needed to ask anyway. "Are you with Jax?"

Tara's eyes widened as a puzzled look crossed her face and a faint blush stained her cheeks. "I don't know how to answer that." She replied with intentional evasiveness.

"It's not a very hard question to answer. You're either with him or you're not." The blond-haired woman shot back.

Wendy was at what she knew was a crossroads in her relationship with her old man. Despite the fact that Jax had given in to her pleas and agreed to try and work shit out, it was obvious that his heart wasn't in it. It certainly didn't help that she felt like she was fighting a losing battle in getting a hang of the whole motherhood thing. Wendy knew she still loved Jax and loved their son, but she couldn't help but feel like she was a big disappointment. She was never any good at multitasking and now, between learning how to be a good mother, working through the outpatient portion of her rehab and trying to fix things with an emotionally unavailable old man, Wendy felt like she was quickly coming undone and on the verge of losing it all.

Her bitch of a guidance counselor was pushing Wendy to relocate to a sober-living facility in Seattle so she could just focus on herself and get her shit together. Wendy didn't see how that would be possible since her heart would always be in Charming, but she had made the mistake of confiding this to Gemma. The prospect of Wendy moving to Seattle, coupled with Jax's obvious disappointment in his wife after walking into the chaos that was his home when he had returned from Eureka a month ago had Gemma scrambling to get Jax to commit to a relationship with Wendy. Gemma should have known better than to back Jax into a corner. He would always come out swinging, not caring who he knocked down, which was why the Queen had recently spent some time on her son's shit list.

It was enough to push Wendy to finally take matters into her own hands—in the end, she couldn't fuck it up any worse than Gemma already had—and face the one person she believed was standing in the way of her happiness. Mustering up her courage and what was left of her self-confidence, Wendy had gone to St. Thomas in hopes of finally tracking Tara down because she was determined to have her say.

"Do you love him?" Wendy demanded.

Tara eyed the clearly upset woman. "I'm sorry, but I'm not comfortable having this conversation with you." She tried to walk around Wendy, but Wendy stopped her progress.

"I don't give a shit about what you're comfortable with. You've been overseeing my son's care for months now, acting like you're my friend, like you're actually concerned about me. Then at Abel's shower you made it quite clear in front of _everyone_ that your real interest is in getting back together again with my husband!" Wendy accused indignantly.

" _Ex-husband_." Tara weakly clarified, her eyes darting up and down the street as onlookers paused to gawk before going on their way.

"Two more months before that's official, bitch! He's still _my_ husband and Abel is _our_ son. Not yours."

"Wendy, right now, what you need to do is focus on getting better. Take some time to get your head on straight. If you and Jax are supposed to be together, then he'll be there when you get out."

"And where will you be?" Wendy shot back.

Refusing to answer, Tara shrugged her shoulders. "I have to get back to work." Turning to walk away, she was stopped in her tracks by Wendy's next words.

"She'll never let you be with him, you know." Turning to face her again, the doctor noted the resigned and somewhat pitying look on the woman's face. "Gemma _hates_ you. She'll do whatever she needs to do to keep you two apart. You might as well quit while you're ahead—or alive, for that matter."

Watching as Jax's old lady turned and headed down the street, Tara let out a deep sigh. She didn't like being cast in the role of the other woman. She had an innate sense of justice and had always believed that other people's relationships were to be respected. God only knew how much she hated having to fight to keep the women down at the Clubhouse at bay when she first started dating Jax in high school. Back then, Tara would never have tolerated someone trying to step over her to get to her old man and had had more than her fair share of catfights to prove it.

 _Then why is it that I'm just fine with doing it to Wendy_?

Probably because Tara knew what a mistake she had made in leaving Jax behind in the first place and had managed to convince herself that, since they were meant to be together, he had never stopped being hers. In this case, in spite of a marriage certificate, a crow and a baby, Wendy was the interloper, not her.

With this confrontation, it was apparent to Tara that Wendy was fading fast and would soon to be out of the picture. Deep in thought as she walked towards the hospital, Tara realized that now was the time to make her presence known as a force to be reckoned with in Jax's life. With Joshua finally out of her life, she could see herself settling down and being happy with Jax at last, in spite of his interfering mother. The thought of being Abel's mother seemed the perfect way of coming full circle. After all, she had been the one to give him life after his own mother had been determined to end it for him.

In order to make any of that happen, however, Tara needed to keep herself in Jax's orbit. She had to push her feelings of guilt regarding Wendy away and she needed to prepare to do battle against his bitch of a mother. She wasn't afraid of Gemma Teller. Tara knew she could hold her own against her. She had done it before, only now it was for keeps.

A little more troubling, however, was the Queen's sudden favor towards Donna Winston. Gemma was definitely slipping if she believed that a woman like Donna, someone Tara remembered as mousy and demure in high school, would pose a real threat to her.

 _But the Donna I saw facing off with Gemma in the parking lot of the Stop-n-Shop yesterday was anything but mousy or demure_ , Tara reminded herself.

Although Donna had vehemently declared that she and Jax were "just friends", she seemed entirely too confident that all that could change and the only one capable of stopping it was Jax himself.

Tara shook her head at the insecure voices in her head and continued towards the hospital. Donna Winston had as much chance with Jax Teller as Wendy Case had of reconciling with him.

 _After all, first love dies hard_.

* * *

Piney Winston yawned loudly as he hobbled his way from his bedroom to the small kitchen of his cabin. Rubbing at his crusty eyes, the old and tired biker allowed them to wander to the window as he noted the late afternoon sun in disgust.

"Shit!" He griped, his voice hoarse from too much drinking the night before. "I _was_ gonna head into the lot today.

The co-founder of the Sons of Anarchy Motorcycle Club Redwood Original had been MIA for well over a week, this last bender of his lasting a total of nine days. Not exactly a record, but pretty damn close. Over the last six months, the outlaw had started spending more and more time away from the Club he had created with his best friend John Teller as he lost himself in a never-ending bottle of Patron. It was easier to do that than facing the fact everyday of what was left of his pitiful life that his son was gone.

Pulling open the old and dilapidated refrigerator, Piney reached in to grab a bottle of beer. Popping the cap, he took a long drink. Finally coming up for air, Piney used a large fist to swipe at the sudden tears that had filled his eyes and had spilled onto his cheeks.

"You would think I'm a fuckin' woman." He chastised himself, not caring that over the last couple of days he had started talking out loud to himself more and more.

Piermont Winston was an old school badass biker. He was incapable of producing tears, or at least he had believed that was the case at one time. He had seen too much death and destruction in his life that he had been bled dry of tears. Needless to say, Piney didn't deal well with all the emotional shit people, _especially_ women, felt compelled to talk about until they were blue in the face.

He wasn't completely hollow inside, however, and Piney would be the first to acknowledge that he had feelings. There was just no point in talking about them ad nauseum. Feelings getting you down? Getting too hard to bear? Then just kick the living shit outta something or someone. Promise you'll feel way better than the schmuck on the floor bleeding through his ears.

Over the years, Piney, a tough motherfucker and hard drinking man, had seen more than his fair share of bad shit rain down on him and those he loved. He thought he had seen it all, first in Vietnam and then as an outlaw biker, but nothing had ever prepared him for the paralyzing grief that losing his only son caused him. Sometimes the pain caught him by surprise and all he could do was curl himself up into a fetal position and let the tears come. Other times, most of the time, he could feel the pain coming, and that's when he'd hightail it to the cabin where he'd start drinking before the pain had the chance to overwhelm and cripple him.

The son Piney had loved so much, his legacy, had not been allowed to reach the prime of his life. His brutal and premature death caused the older man to lose many nights of sleep as he reexamined his life and the brotherhood he loved so much, and he found the Club sorely lacking.

Returning to his cabin after his son's funeral, Piney had pulled out his old Army footlocker which held some of his most precious possessions. One of them was a manila envelope which contained his copy of a book written by John Teller. Pulling it out of its envelope, Piney looked at the handwritten note attached to its cover and, with a deep sigh, reread the last words his best friend had directed at him.

" _To my oldest, dearest and wisest friend. What we started was a good thing for a good reason. What we've become is a different thing for reasons I no longer understand. I feel angry winds at my back and I'm not sure how much time I have left in this kutte I love so much. This book is for all the things we wanted and for all the things we still can be. I love you, brother. JT."_

The last time Piney had read those words and his brother's manuscript was shortly after JT's funeral. The contents had truly racked at the old biker's soul for in reading them he realized just how much he and JT had failed to live up to the vision that they had had for the Club.

_And instead of trying to fix what was broken, I allowed it to continue to fester, become more diseased and broken from within instead of stepping up to fix it. Maybe if I had, Opie would still be alive._

It was a painful realization for the old biker, the thought that he had inadvertently played a part in his own son's death, but he wasn't getting any younger, or healthier for that matter, and it was time for Piney to deal with cold hard facts instead of burying shit as he had done in the past. To his way of thinking, his mind was willing, but his body was weak. The changes needed within the Club had to come from a younger, stronger generation, and Piney believed that Jackson Teller was the leader the Sons needed in order to make change happen.

Piney had believed that giving John's manuscript to his son now would be a defining moment in the young man's life. It would take a strong man to overcome the greed that had stemmed from the head of the table and that was responsible for much of the problems within the Club to date.

Sitting back in a large recliner next to the window in the cabin's small living room, Piney now poured himself a shot of Patron as he wondered whether Jax had even started reading the book. It was just then that he heard the sound of a familiar bike make its way up the narrow track of dirt road to his cabin.

Peering through the thin, threadbare curtains, the old biker smiled as he spotted his best friend's son pull to a stop and head up the cabin's porch steps.

"Come in, shithead!" Piney yelled as a fist pounded on the door. "Door's open!" Piney grinned as the young man swaggered inside, his reaper cap perched backwards on his head, his hands tucked into the front pockets of his jeans.

"Hey, old man," Jax greeted him. Stopping mid-stride, he sniffed at the air. "Damn, brother! When was the last time you hit the shower?"

Piney snorted. "You came all the way up here to complain about my hygiene, boy?"

"No, but nonetheless I would appreciate if you would at least open a window."

Reaching over, Piney did as he was requested. "You wanna a beer? There's a couple in the fridge."

Grabbing one, Jax sat down on an old faded sofa across from his best friend's father. On his way to the cabin, Jax had thought long and hard about how to approach Piney about the contents of his father's manuscript and his concerns and fears about the Club.

"So I'm guessing you didn't come all the way up here to drink my beer, asshole." Piney said quietly.

"Nah, I didn't." Jax set his beer down on the coffee table and eyed the older biker grimly. "That was a load of heavy shit to drop on me, old man."

"I know. I pretty much felt the same way the first time I read it. It wasn't easy facing the realities of what the Club had become as seen through JT's eyes." Piney sighed. "He was younger than me, your old man, but I looked up to him as if he were my big brother. We were lost when we came back from 'Nam. We couldn't take the horrors of war anymore, but we didn't quite fit in once we got home. JT was always reading, philosophy and shit like that. I used to bust his ass about it, but the truth was I respected him and I would have followed him to the end of the world. He understood that we needed something, something for us that reminded us of the camaraderie and brotherhood we had in the hell that was war. He needed something to live and die for. The Sons of Anarchy was that vision, but somewhere along the way, what we started out as got lost and twisted into something else."

Jax removed his reaper hat, tossing it on the coffee table as he ran his fingers through his hair. "Reading Dad's words—finding out what he really wanted from the Club—has made me question everything about my life—the choices I could have made, my relationships. Losing Opie shattered me in a way that I never thought possible." Jax paused. "To see that maybe, if the Club had gone a different route, he would still be here with us—it's fuckin' hard, bro."

"How do you think I feel?" Piney replied, wearily running his hand over his unshaven face. "I've been sitting on this for the past 15 years because the only man I trusted to make change happen was dead."

 _And whose fault is that, asshole?_ Piney thought with no little shame. _If only I had pulled my fuckin' head out of the endless bottles of Patron, I could have backed my brother up in excising the cancer that has been rotting the Club from within for years. Maybe I could have saved my brother and best friend from an untimely and tragic end. I think the time has finally come for me to tell his boy everything._

But instead of listening to his troubled conscience, Piney sat back in his recliner as JT's son tried to shake him out of his apathy.

"Then what the fuck are we gonna do about it, old man?" Jax asked earnestly, sitting forward on the couch, his elbows on his denim-clad knees. "I love this Club, but I can't let it continue down this dark path until we're all dead. Fifteen years from now, I don't want my son to have to watch me being lowered into a fuckin' grave because I didn't learn from my old man's mistakes."

"Then you fix shit." Piney exclaimed emphatically.

"I can't do it alone, Piney."

"Son, I don't have many days left on this earth. Change is a young man's game. That's why you need to be the one to do this." Piney replied.

Jax gave the older man a hard glare. "You're not dead yet, asshole. You're the only link I have to my father, the only one who understood his vision. I can't do it with just his manuscript backing me up. Hell, it would be pretty damn arrogant of me to think that I could do this alone. Period. I _need_ you by my side, old man, not wallowing away up here by yourself getting shitfaced. There's a lot more gas in that tank of yours than you're willing to cop to. I need you, Piney."

Piney grunted derisively. "There's only _one_ fuckin' problem to be dealt with, boy, and it's sitting at the head of the fuckin' table."

"Don't you think I realize that?" Jax asked, his blue eyes wide. "But what you're talking about doing is not some easy shit to manage. Clay is the man that he is because WE made him that way. WE empowered him to be what he is."

"It's not just the immense power he wields, son. The heart of the problem—that which empowered Clay in the first place—stems from our gun running. Ever since we got into this shit, greed has been running this Club right into the ground. That deal that Clay made to sell guns to the Mayans backfired on us and bled all over my son, costing him his life." Piney argued.

Jax's brow furrowed as his chewed on his bottom lip. The one thing Jax knew for sure was that it was way too soon to drop his suspicions on Piney about Clay's possible involvement in Opie's death. For now, it was wiser to just agree with Piney's reasoning.

"I know, but stopping that shit ain't gonna be easy. The Sons have been running guns for over twenty years. Everyone has grown accustomed to the money that it brings to the table. Getting us out of the game is not going to happen overnight and it definitely won't happen with Clay wielding that gavel."

"So what do you propose we do?" Piney asked.

"We do what we can to keep Clay in check, curtailing any of his plays that could damage the Club further. Clay's hands aren't getting any better. It's only a matter of time before they go completely. Then I'll be in a position to effect real change." Jax explained, noticing the frustration on Piney's face. "Hey, the Club didn't go to shit overnight. We're not gonna undo any of the damage overnight either. In the meantime, I'm gonna need your support, old man and the only way you can do that is by sitting at the table, not holed up here day in and day out. Besides," Jax continued. "I'm not the only one who needs you present, Piney. How the fuck do you think Opie would feel to know that you've all but abandoned Donna and the kids?"

Running his hand through his hair, Piney sighed. "I don't think he'd be surprised, me being a drunk and all." He replied as Jax flashed him a look that had disappointment written all over it. "I get it, alright?" Piney said grimly. "Have you seen them lately?"

Suddenly, Jax hunched his shoulders. "Yeah. They're good, but they're missing their grandpa. Kenny and Ellie need you and me both."

Looking at Jax, he did something Jax hadn't seen him do in months. Piney smiled. "You always did look after Ope's family. You were the only one who gave a damn about them when he was on the inside. I know he loved you for that, son. His family was one less thing he had to worry about, knowing you were watching out for them. Even now you're there for your brother by being there for his family and my daughter-in-law needs all the help she can get."

 _Just help?_ Jax thought grimly. _The last thing she probably needs is me pushing up on her fine ass_ _._

Seeing a variety of emotions pass over Jax's face, Piney smiled inwardly to himself. Standing up, he walked over to his son's best friend and placed a ham-sized fist on his shoulder. "So, we're in this shit together, huh?"

Jax stood up and hugged the older man. "That we are. Now get your ass in the shower, old man. It's time to get you back in your dorm."

Watching as Piney ambled his way to his bedroom, Jax grinned. Finally, he was seeing his way out of the pitch darkness he had plunged into after Ope's death.


	11. Wine & Whiskey

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy.**

* * *

With her oldest brother Danny and his family visiting from Big Sur for the weekend, Donna wasn't at all surprised that Kenny and Ellie had begged and pleaded to spend the weekend at their grandparents' house. The last time they had seen their cousins, two girls, 10 and 12 and a boy, 8, had been for Opie's funeral several months ago.

During dinner that evening, all the kids could do was chatter incessantly about wanting to spend as much time as possible with Ben, Riley, and Alexa, arguing that they probably wouldn't get to see them again until Christmas. Donna finally gave in, under the condition that even if Grandma Helen became too much to deal with, they were just going to have to suck it up because she wasn't driving to the other side of Charming in the middle of the night to pick them up. For a minute, it looked like Kenny was about to change his mind, but ultimately decided that spending the weekend playing video games with his only boy cousin would be well worth the sacrifice of putting up with Grandma Helen's nagging.

After dinner, Donna gave her mother a quick call to make sure she was okay with having an even fuller house than expected for the weekend as the kids packed their overnight bags with more toys than anything else. With Danny not expected to arrive for another couple of hours, Donna had hightailed it over to her parents' house to drop the kids off. The last thing she wanted was to run into her brother or have her mother insist she stick around and wait for his arrival.

As much as Donna loved her older brother, Danny was too much like their mother. He had never cared for Opie and, like Helen, thought that Donna had wasted her life waiting around for a criminal as she struggled to raise two young children on her own. Donna still couldn't bring herself to forgive the brother she had looked up to as a child for his hurtful proclamation that Opie was better off dead; words spoken mere hours after Donna had laid her murdered husband and the father of her children to rest.

Unlike their mother, however, Danny had never badmouthed Opie in front of her children, which was the only reason Donna had agreed to let them spend time with their cousins. Danny knew that the children were innocent and needed to be shielded from harsh truths for as long as possible. He had even chastised Helen on several occasions when she made her true feelings about Opie known in front of Kenny and Ellie, making the children cry. Donna knew that Danny loved her and had only said those things because he felt the need to protect her, but it was going to take her a while longer to forgive her brother for voicing his opinion on possibly the worst day of her life.

It was now almost nine o'clock and the sun had set over an hour ago. If Donna remembered correctly, SAMCRO's table meetings, or what they called "Church", always started at sundown on Friday evenings. Although Opie had never shared with her what was discussed "at the table", she knew from experience that these meetings could sometimes last anywhere from mere minutes to hours.

After spending the last couple of hours debating with herself, Donna finally dialed Jax's prepay. With a small part of her wanting to hear his voice, Donna was a little disappointed when her call went straight to voice-mail. Almost tempted to hang up before the beep, Donna left a clipped, short message asking Jax to drop by because she had something urgent to discuss with him.

As soon as she hung up, Donna could've kicked herself for leaving a message and for making it sound like it was a matter of life or death. What was she going to tell him when— _if_ —he showed up? That with the kids spending the weekend with her parents, Saturday morning waffles were postponed until next week?

"Oh God!" Donna moaned as she ran her hands through her hair.

When Donna had returned from dropping the kids off at her mother's, she had been determined to get a jump on her weekend chores in order to sleep in on Saturday. That had been the plan, but as she puttered around the house, without the usual noise and distractions caused by her children, Donna found her mind wandering to issues that were better left alone. Namely, her conversation with Gemma in the parking lot of the Stop-n-Shop several days ago.

The harder she tried to push the SAMCRO Queen out of her mind, the more her mind focused on their topic of conversation that day: Jax Teller. Donna couldn't think about one without thinking about the other and soon, all she could think about was Gemma giving her stamp of approval to a relationship between her and her son.

_Like I fuckin' need her permission if I want to be with Jax in that way!_

Cursing and muttering to herself about the nerve of _that woman_ , Donna soon lost interest in the laundry she was in the middle of sorting. Pissed off that she was no longer in the mood for chores, Donna had served herself a _generous_ glass of red wine, deciding to crash in front of the television instead. One glass turned into two before Donna realized that she was sitting in front of a TV she hadn't even bothered to turn on.

Blaming Gemma for her suddenly foul mood, Donna didn't even realize she was picking up her phone with the intention of calling Jax until she started dialing the number of his prepay.

 _What the hell am I doing?_ Donna reprimanded herself.

The last thing she wanted to do was vent on Jax about his mother. That would only lead to the inevitable "what bug crawled up your ass" query on Jax's part and she would have to come clean about her conversation with Mother Gemma and her endorsement of them hooking up.

"Ugh!" Donna had grimaced as she hung up before she had finished dialing.

That had been two hours and another 1½ glasses of red wine ago. Donna was still sitting on the couch, the phone in one hand, her glass of wine in the other and the TV still off. Maybe it was the wine, but Donna suddenly found herself craving the sound of Jax's voice. Sipping from her glass, Donna tried to think of a reason why she could call Jax, knowing that he would probably be busy enjoying the after-Church festivities.

Deciding to call to let him know that breakfast was canceled tomorrow, Donna was caught unprepared when she got his voice-mail. Instead of leaving that simple, yet considerate message for him, all reason left her mind as she practically demanded that he drop whatever (or whoever) he was doing and get over to her house ASAP.

Feeling like an idiot, Donna was now pacing back and forth in her living room, sure that she was going to wear a hole in the already threadbare carpet that was in desperate need of replacing. Finally switching to water, the young widow took several sips from the glass in her hand hoping to calm her nerves before Jax arrived.

It had been a stupid move on her part calling him in the first place, but now that his arrival was imminent, Donna reasoned that Jax had the right to know that his meddlesome bitch of a mother was still hell bent on picking and choosing his women.

Forcing herself to sit down, Donna stared with unseeing eyes as she replayed her conversation with Gemma for the millionth and one time over in her mind.

_I'm sure you have some appreciation for my son's talents._

"What the fuck does that even mean?!" Donna angrily said out loud to no one in particular.

 _You know what it means_ , she said to herself.

Unfortunately, she did because even though the comment had seemed innocuous enough, it was clear that the Queen had been hinting at something more than just a friendship between her and Jax. It was a known fact that nothing, especially gossip about her son, ever got passed Gemma without her knowing about it first. And apparently, judging by her not-so-subtle dig and the knowing look she had directed her way, Gemma believed that Donna had been hitting the sheets with her husband's best friend for some time now.

It had been bad enough hearing a number of old ladies she had considered friends talk about her like that in the past—like she had been some faithless Club whore—but to have the woman Opie had considered his mother believe it too, _and_ be okay with it, was mortifying. Worse, however, was the fact that Gemma was right. Donna had indeed recently sampled a bit of Jax's _talents_ and, in spite of her overwhelming shame, had enjoyed every damn minute of it!

In the very early days of her marriage to Opie, with her relationship with her own mother on the rocks, Donna had sincerely hoped to forge a friendship with Gemma Teller-Morrow. While she would never admit it out loud now, on a certain level, Donna had admired the SAMCRO matriarch for overcoming so much in her own life. Not only did Gemma suffer from the same heart condition Abel had been born with, but she had lost her youngest son Thomas because of the "family flaw", only to have her first old man, John Teller, die tragically as well. Gemma had managed to overcome all the tragedy in her life even as the Club she loved made the transition to a new presidency. Eventually—and this part made Donna giggle a little, proving that she should limit her wine consumption to one glass—the young widow had found happiness once again by marrying her late husband's best friend, Clay Morrow.

It was somewhat flattering that Gemma—who had little tolerance for weak old ladies—would consider her a suitable match for her son, even though the fact that she couldn't pin Donna down like she had the other old ladies frustrated her to no end. But after fighting her off for ten long years, Donna was not about to let an interfering control freak and town busybody take control _her life_ now. As wonderful a man as Donna knew Jax to be, she had no interest in being with a man whose mother was so into his shit!

And by the time she heard Jax's bike pull into her driveway, Donna had every intention of telling him so to his face!

Picking up her wine glass that was sitting next to the unused remote, Donna drained it of its remnants and decided that she needed just a little bit more Dutch courage. Bypassing the nearly-empty bottle of wine on the coffee table, Donna ran to the liquor cabinet in her kitchen and pulled out what remained of a bottle of Jack Daniels. Quickly taking it to the head, she felt a trail of fire scald her throat straight down to her belly. Grimacing at the taste and feeling suddenly woozy, Donna tossed the empty bottle in the garbage pail under the sink. Grabbing a couple of Altoids from the canister she kept in her purse that was sitting on the counter, she crunched them in her haste before running towards her front door as the bell chimed throughout the house.

Arriving at the door breathless, Donna straightened her shoulders and fixed a stern look on her face before flinging it wide open.

* * *

Jax Teller's eyebrows slowly rose to his hairline as he took in the breathless and inexplicably angry young pixie standing in the doorway. Wearing a pair of tight stonewashed jeans and a white tank top, her face devoid of makeup except for some mascara and pale pink lip gloss, Donna stood with her arms folded across her chest glaring at him.

For the most part, it had been an uneventful day, with Jax returning from a gun run with Chibs and Juice to the Club's newest charter in Indian Hills. Now that the deal Clay had brokered with Marcus Alvarez to sell guns to the Mayans was dead in the water, tensions were once again running high between the two MCs in Reno. Jury and his VP Needles had called on SAMCRO for some hardware to keep the Mayans off their backs and to protect their book and pussy trade.

Arriving at the Clubhouse just moments before Clay called everyone to the table, Jax had dropped his prepay into the cigar box on the bar and headed to the Chapel. After Church, instead of joining his brothers for a drink as the party got started, Jax headed to his dorm for a much needed shower. Tossing his phone along with his kutte onto the bed, Jax had forgotten all about it until he stepped out of his bathroom and heard the prepay chime, indicating he had a new voice-mail.

It had been a message from Donna, saying that she needed to see him right away. Alarm bells instantly went off in his head as he heard her sound flustered and somewhat upset. Jax sent Donna a quick text letting her know he was on his way and, barely taking any time to properly dry off, had thrown on some clean clothes, his holstered Glock and kutte. Running his hands through his wet hair as he tucked it behind his ears, Jax practically ran out of the Clubhouse without a word to anyone.

Now, seeing for himself that she was indeed upset, Jax was glad he had rushed over. Not waiting for an invitation, he pushed past Donna. Grabbing her by the arm, he pulled her inside and slammed and locked the door behind them.

"Don, what the fuck is going on?" Jax asked urgently, as he did a quick scan of the otherwise quiet house. "Are you all right? The kids okay?"

Trying to hide her embarrassment for being such a drama queen, Donna waved away his concern as she marched past him and into the living room. Perplexed, the SAMCRO VP followed close behind.

"The kids are fine. They're spending the weekend with their cousins at my mother's house." Donna replied, finally allowing herself to look up at Jax. She wished she hadn't, however, as she could see the worry for their well-being clearly etched on his face. "I'm sorry, Jax," She started as Jax looked around the spotless living room. "I really don't know why I called.

Jax tried to hide the smirk on his face by running a hand over his mouth and down the whiskers on his chin. Swaggering over to the coffee table, he picked up the almost-empty bottle of Napa Valley Zinfandel, swishing what was left in the bottle before setting it down again.

"Well, shit, Don," Jax smiled. "I'm flattered that you chose to drunk dial me, darlin'." He teased.

Donna's eyes widened as she felt her face grow warm. "No—I . . . that bottle was left—" She tried to defend herself, but the words refused to come out.

_That's because I did drunk dial Jax Teller, damn it! What the fuck was I thinking?!_

Running a frustrated hand through her hair, Donna glared at Jax. "You can get that full-of-yourself smirk off your face there, Teller." She demanded as Jax threw his hands up in mock surrender. "I did call you for a reason, but it wasn't for a booty call."

 _Too fuckin' bad_ , Jax thought as Donna turned around and his eyes instantly fell on her round, but perky ass.

"Something's been bothering me and I just wanted to talk to you face-to-face so we can get some shit straight between us." She explained as she started pacing back and forth.

Jax's face suddenly darkened as he clenched his jaw. _Shit_ _, what the fuck did I do now?_

He had been in the shit with Donna when a late night visit got out of hand between them over a month ago. Giving him a chaste kiss, Donna had gotten a lot more than she had bargained for when Jax suddenly pushed the envelope and they found themselves in a heavy make out session on her couch. Having just barely pulled himself back from picking her up and carrying her to the bedroom to finish what they had started, Jax had beat a hasty retreat and had not been seen around the Winston household for several weeks. After Donna had ripped into him for ducking out on her kids, they had managed to patch things up, but neither of them had addressed the passionate session that had flared up between them.

 _Maybe_ , Jax thought hopefully, _Don finally wants to talk about it_. If that was the case, however, Jax couldn't help but be a little disappointed that she could only do so while tipsy off of cheap wine.

Shoving his hands into his pockets, Jax made an imposing figure as he loomed over the petite woman. "So what's the matter? I take it this isn't about Clay—" He started.

"No, it's not about Clay." Donna quickly replied. "It's about your mother."

Dragging a hand out of his pocket to run it through his damp hair, Jax groaned under his breath. It had been only a few days since he had made up with his mother after she had practically accused him of sleeping with Donna while Opie was in prison. He would say Gemma was nuts, but in this case, Jax felt like he was the one that was mental.

_After all, the definition of crazy is repeating the same fuckin' behavior expecting a different result. How many times have I gone through the same shit with Ma, each time expecting that this time it might be different?_

"Fuckin' hell, Don, what did she do now?" Jax fumed.

"Well, for starters," Donna began, stopping in front of Jax, her arms crossed over her chest. "She confronted me in the parking lot of the Stop-n-Shop in front of my kids a couple of days ago."

Jax couldn't help but cringe. Remembering that Gemma had called Donna just another one of his "damsels-in-distress", Jax could only imagine what she had said to Donna in front of Kenny and Ellie. His mother had no filter. It could have been anything, but Jax was willing to bet that Gemma, at the very least, had accused Donna of trying to distract him from what was "important" by pushing up on him.

Jax didn't know just how far off the mark he actually was.

"Look, Don, I'm sorry. I'll talk to her and I'll handle this shit—"

"That's the problem, Jax!" Donna retorted angrily. "You can't control your mother. I don't think anyone in this whole damn town can! She thinks she can do just about anything and get away with it, and you know what? She's right because everyone's so damn scared of her it's pathetic! Maybe you're okay with your mother running your life, but I'm not interested in having her run mine!"

Her last shot striking a cord with Jax, he had to remind himself that this was Donna he was talking to. Donna Winston was the only old lady Jax had ever known that managed to keep Gemma out of her business and had never let herself be intimidated by the self-proclaimed Queen of Charming. That was just one of the many reasons he had always admired her. But Donna had crossed the line with him, the fact that she thought him weak enough to let his mother call the shots in his life stabbing him in the heart.

"My mother does not run my shit!" He nearly bellowed.

"Okay, you keep telling yourself that!" Donna retorted heatedly as she threw her arms up in exasperation. Pacing back and forth again, the whiskey sloshing around her stomach and mixing with the wine emboldened her to speak candidly. "But just so we're clear, I do not appreciate having your mother accost me in public, in front of my kids no less, about _you_ and our not-so-platonic relationship."

"She did what?" Jax asked, his brow furrowed.

"Oh yeah," Donna nodded. "She was really working the hard sell too, insinuating that we would make a great blended family considering all the experience you and I have playing house."

Jax nearly did a double-take. " _What?!_ "

"Yeah, that was basically my reaction too." Donna replied sarcastically.

Rubbing the bridge of his nose, Jax wondered how much time he would get for committing matricide.

_None, 'cause no jury in Charming would convict me for killing Gemma._

"Let me see if I've got this straight, Don." Jax started cautiously. "My mother thinks we've been fuckin' around this whole time and instead of trying to cockblock, she's cool with it? Thinks we'd make a good family together?" He asked and Donna nodded vigorously. "Well, I'll be damned." Jax muttered under his breath. The angry wind suddenly taken out of his sails, Jax was starting to rethink wanting to brain his mother with the butt of his gun.

"What the fuck, Jax?!" Donna looked confused. "You're okay with this?!"

"Don, wait—"

"No! You wait! I've been stewing about this for days, Jax. I'm sick and tired of having people question our friendship, twisting it into something's its not and has never been. I can't have my children exposed to ugly and hurtful rumors and I certainly can't deal with your mother anymore, so I need you to make it clear to her that there has never been anything and that there'll _never_ be anything between us, except friendship. If you can't do that for me and make it stick with her this time, I can't continue having you be a part of my life." Donna said firmly.

The angry fire in her blue-green eyes, blazing hot a moment ago, was quickly extinguished as she saw what could only be termed as pain in Jax's crystal blue eyes. Running his hands over his face, Donna could see his jaw clicking with tension as he stared her down.

Something suddenly snapped in Jax. Donna saw it, but she stood her ground. He may be bigger and stronger than her, but Donna knew she had nothing to fear from him. Smirking to himself as he noted that the little firecracker was going to stand her ground, Jax stalked towards her. Although small, Donna actually managed to shove him away. Once. Suddenly losing her courage at the sight of the ice blue fire flickering in his eyes, Donna was visibly shaken as she backed away, slamming into the patio door leading to the backyard. Jax standing close enough that she could smell the clean scent of his bath soap mixing with his spicy aftershave and with his strong hands on the doorframe on either side of her, there was no hope for escape.

"First off, let's get one thing clear between us, darlin'." He growled. "I don't give a shit what my mother has to say. She doesn't fuckin' control my life. _I DO_. Second," Jax inhaled a deep steadying breath before continuing. "I know you love Ope, always have and you probably always will. I love him too, Don, but don't try bullshitting me about what you feel for me now, not after what happened in this very room." He was vibrating with barely under control emotions as he grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her slightly for emphasis.

Feebly trying to push him away with her hands pressed against the unmovable brick wall that was his chest, Donna glared up at Jax fiercely. Although angry, she was unable to hide the panic and desire that he could see reflected in her eyes as clear as day.

"What happened between us," Donna said through clenched teeth. "Doesn't mean _anything_ because it NEVER should've happened in the first place, Jax!"

Staring at each other for a long time, Jax suddenly flashed her a half-grin. "Wanna bet I can change your mind?" Yanking her close to him, Jax lifted Donna off her feet and shoved her against the glass-paned door as he slammed his lips onto hers.

* * *

Pure white heat!

It was as if someone had suddenly turned the thermostat up to 110 fuckin' degrees. Donna could hear the blood rushing in her ears as the adrenaline pumped wildly through her veins, but not out of anger or fear. Those feelings had quickly dissipated, exploding into full-blown desire as Donna realized she was kissing Jax back with a fervor that matched his own.

With their mouths fused together in an angry, almost desperate and bruising kiss, Jax's groan came from deep in the back of his throat as Donna's delicate fingers found their way into his hair. She was clutching him tightly, almost painfully, but feeling her arch into him only inflamed him more. Breaking their kiss, Jax let his mouth burn a hot trail of kisses over her face and chin and down to her neck.

Donna let out a small gasp as Jax found, and quickly latched onto, the sweet spot just above her collarbone. She was soon squirming against him, but still holding him close as Jax, somewhat out of his mind with need and desire, started sucking a bruise into the soft skin of her throat. Momentarily coming to his senses, Jax let his tongue soothingly glide over the tender spot where the skin had started to darken before pulling away.

"Fuck, Donna! If you wanna back out," Jax was panting as he pressed his forehead against hers. "Now's the time to do it, darlin'." He offered. As much as Jax wanted her right now, he had to let this be Donna's decision. He didn't want to run the risk of losing her friendship by having her guilt turn to resentment against him.

Donna's eyes flew open at the sound of his hoarse and whispered words. She almost chuckled at the thought that he was offering her an out even as he held onto her ass as if his life depended on it. She could push him away—Donna knew Jax well enough to know that he would let her—but she also knew that would only postpone the inevitable. This was the second time they found themselves in an extremely passionate embrace and Donna had to admit to herself that she wanted him as much now as she did that night on the couch. Donna realized that this was going to end in only one way, and that wasn't by her backing out.

Bringing her hands to his face, Donna gently nudged him back so she could look him in the eye. "I want this, Jax."

Looking deep into her confident and beautiful eyes, Jax didn't allow himself to dwell too much on the possibility that her confidence was a result of her solo wine party. At this moment, all he knew for sure was that they were in complete agreement because he wanted this too.

With a soft yelp and a giggle, Donna wrapped her legs around his waist as Jax swiftly picked her up and headed for her bedroom.

Kicking the door out of his way with his sneakered foot, Jax crossed the threshold into the semi-darkened room. If Donna felt him hesitate for a fraction of a second, she didn't let on as she held his face in her hands and with a slight smile on her lips, pulled him into a kiss. For a moment, Jax was acutely aware of the fact that he was standing in the bedroom Donna had shared with his best friend with the intention of making love to Opie's wife.

Letting her take control, Jax cleared his mind, focusing on the fiery bundle in his arms kissing him ever-so-softly but deeply. The sweet, yet sexy sounds Donna was making as she gently devoured his mouth with her own convinced Jax that they were both on the same page. If she was feeling any trepidation about bringing Jax to her bed, she wasn't showing it. This kiss, slower and more tender than the one they had shared in the living room just moments earlier, suddenly became more invasive as Jax responded to the light touch of Donna's tongue brushing against his lips by plundering her mouth with his.

Dropping her gently onto her feet, Jax pulled away to slowly shrug his kutte off his shoulders, almost as if any sudden movement on his part would send Donna flying out of the room. She was watching him intently as he dropped his leather onto the chair by the mirrored dresser. Jax was about to open his mouth—to say what, he didn't know—when Donna moved to kick off her shoes as she unbuttoned her jeans. With an eyebrow raised in appreciation, Jax watched as Donna wiggled her slender hips and pushed her pants down her legs.

Convinced that there was no going back now, Jax pulled his dark blue SAMCRO t-shirt over his head and dropped it on the floor by the bed. Donna's eyes darkened with an intensity that could only be categorized as unfiltered desire as they flicked over his well-muscled torso.

Donna wanted to say that he was beautiful, but she felt that was too delicate a word to describe someone like Jax Teller. His body was amazing. With golden skin wrapped tightly over the bulging muscles of his chest, abdomen and biceps, it was almost like he was chiseled from granite. He looked rough and dangerous, the type of man she should avoid at all costs, but Donna knew those powerful and brawny arms of his were capable of providing tenderness and comfort. Remembering seeing him hold his son with such loving care, she was having a hard time reconciling that man with the raw, sexually-charged biker standing before her.

Dragging her eyes back up to his face, Donna would have blushed at the smirk playing on his lips, a clear indication that he was aware of her eye-fucking him. Instead, it was like something detonated inside them at the same time as they rushed into each other's arms. Their bodies slamming together, Jax buried his face in her neck, once again nipping and biting and sucking as Donna fumbled first with his SAMCRO belt and then with the button fly on his jeans. He was back to kissing her mouth feverishly as he helped her push his pants and boxers down to the floor as he simultaneously kicked off his socks and sneakers.

Grabbing the hem of her tank top, Jax pulled it off as Donna let her hands roam, first over his chest, then over his finely-chiseled stomach, and finally down to the "V" that formed at his hips. She felt herself shiver with wanton anticipation as her hand wrapped around his already-hard cock. Jax hissed as if touched by fire and arched into her as her thumb swiped over the smooth slickness that pulsed from his shaft, his own anticipation level off the charts. Tilting her chin up with one hand, Jax kissed her hard, their tongues curling around each other as his other hand wrapped around hers, stroking their fingers along his length.

She had Jax groaning incoherently, her tiny fist tightening around him as she continued her steady stroking. Jax could barely gather himself enough to finish undressing her. Nonetheless, Jax managed to nimbly undo her bra. Tossing it over his head, he then moved onto pushing her lacy lavender panties over her hips until they hit the floor. Nudging her gently, Jax pushed her back slowly towards the bed.

"Don't stop, darlin'." Jax softly coaxed Donna to continue her stroking as he buried his hands in her hair, his mouth on hers again.

Donna suddenly felt the back of her legs hit the side of the bed and with a small squeal landed on her back, bringing the outlaw biker with her. Using one arm to prop himself up on his elbow over her, Jax let his free hand explore the womanly contours of her body as he started working on the almost-bruise on her neck again. Donna felt her eyes rolling around her head as the sensation of having both Jax's mouth and hand on her body nearly overwhelmed her. A soft whimper escaped her lips as he stopped working on her neck. About to protest at the loss of his hot, moist mouth against her skin, Donna used her free hand to clutch Jax's head to her chest as his mouth found one of her nipples.

"Fuck, Jax!" Tiny jolts of electricity coursed through her body as he sucked on it until the pretty pink peak was a tight bud in his mouth. "Oh God!" She cried out as he shifted his attention to her other supple, round orb, letting his teeth scrape over her nipple and then soothing it with his tongue.

Donna could feel his erection pulsating hotly against her flat tummy. Running her hands through his hair that had fallen around his face, Donna tucked it behind his ears. Looking into his eyes suddenly a dark blue, she could see his feral need for release as he rubbed himself against her, but she could sense him holding back.

"C'mon, Jax," She whispered, her eyes locked with his. " _Please_."

Slowly pushing himself in between her thighs, Jax let out a deep, guttural groan and Donna's breath caught in her throat as he slipped into her moist, tight hole.

"Holy shit, Don!" Jax breathed heavily against her cheek before peppering it with soft kisses.

She was so small and her walls were clenched so tight around him that Jax had to physically restrain himself from moving, fearing he might rip her apart. She was shaking her head and for a moment Jax thought she wanted him to stop.

"It's okay, Jax." Donna assured him quietly. "You're not gonna hurt me."

"You sure?" His eyes were dancing around her face, searching for any hint that he might be causing her pain. "I'm only halfway in, darlin' and it feels—"

"Amazing." Donna finished for him. " _You_ feel fuckin' amazing, Jax. Please don't stop."

Bringing his mouth to hers, Jax kissed her softly as his free hand cradled her face lovingly. Burying his face in the crook of her neck, he was whispering sweet nothings to soothe her as he pushed himself deeper. Donna's breath quickened as her muscles pulsated around him of their own volition, almost pulling him in further and further. Growling as he bared his teeth against her skin, Jax buried himself to the hilt as Donna stretched to accommodate him.

"Oh, Jax!" She sighed breathily as Jax shifted onto his hands and started moving with slow, deliberate thrusts.

Because of the love she had for her husband, Donna had grown used to going without a man's touch for long periods of time. She had remained faithful to Opie while he had served a long prison stint. And now, with Opie gone forever, leaving her alone with two young children to raise, she believed the part of her that made her a woman with needs had died as well.

It had taken the man moving sensuously above her, _and in her_ , to make her realize that Donna Winston the woman was alive and well and about to come.

"Oh God, Jax!" Donna moaned, her eyelids fluttering.

"Shit, darlin'!" Jax groaned, her hips grinding deliciously against his.

If he had thought she couldn't get any tighter, he would have been wrong as her muscles contracted violently around him. Changing his rhythm, Jax clutched her hips and pinned her to the bed. With her legs wrapped around his thighs, Donna arched into him as Jax picked up speed. With their eyes locked on each other, Jax watched as Donna slowly came undone. The soft mewling sounds she made as she rode the crest of her climax made Jax's balls tighten in anticipation of his own release. Her eyes softening as her body grew limp, Jax pushed himself deeper and faster. Donna ran her fingers through his hair, her hand finally resting on his face as she cupped his bearded his cheek. Grabbing onto her hand, Jax placed a tender kiss on her palm as he felt his own orgasm start to build at the base of his spine.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" He grunted, the sudden snap of his hips hard enough to startle a yelp out of her. "Ah, yes! Shit, fuck me!" A low groan followed as Jax tensed, coming in a blinding wave as stars burst behind his eyelids.

Finally spent, Jax let himself collapse half on the bed, half on Donna. Nuzzling her neck as he inhaled her scent, waiting for his heart rate to return to normal, Jax was in danger of purring like a cat as Donna gently stroked the sweat-slick Reaper on his back.

"Stay tonight?" Donna had spoken so softly Jax wasn't sure she had spoken at all. Lifting his head, Jax looked her in the eye and Donna cocked an eyebrow as if waiting for an answer.

Kissing her lips softly, Jax smiled. "We having waffles for breakfast?"

* * *

In spite of the massive wine-induced headache that was pounding behind her closed eyelids, Donna had just enjoyed what was probably the best night of sleep she's had since Opie passed away.

Cracking open her eyes to narrow slits, Donna surveyed the room she had shared with her husband of ten years. It didn't seem all that different. The oversized furniture and bed frame of deep cherry wood was the same. The pictures on the wall, the carpet, even the curtains were all the same as well. The only difference was the undeniably sexy and hot-blooded man lying beside her, his legs entangled with her own, his arm possessively draped across her midsection.

After a considerable amount of time trying to tug herself free, Donna finally managed to dislodge the arm that had been trapped under a muscled-packed torso to rub at her eyes as she slowly roused herself. Her body—completely naked under the brown and baby blue comforter that cozily concealed her and her companion—was sore from its hedonistic exertions of the night before. As Donna's mind started to clear the fog caused by cheap wine and lack of sleep, flashes of the night before lit up her memory and it suddenly hit her why she was so tired and felt like she could sleep for days.

She had willingly spent the night with Jackson Teller!

 _And I really can't call we did last night sleeping_ , Donna felt her face heat up with shame, _Now can I?_

While at the core of her femininity she was exuberant, there was a part of Donna that couldn't help but feel like a dirty whore for letting herself thoroughly enjoy the pleasure Jax had given her. Although she had been happy to discover that all her lady bits were in fine working condition after their initial romp on her couch, Donna had written off the fact that it had happened at all as some sort of madness on her part. Now, how the hell was she supposed to convince herself that last night should be categorized as just a one-off?

 _I can't_ , Donna realized. _Not after hours and hours of the most incredible sexual experience of my life! And since he's still in my bed, the threat of it happening again still exists!_

Even though Opie had been the furthest thing from her mind just a few short hours ago, in the harsh reality of the morning after, Donna couldn't escape the fact that she was lying in the bed she had once shared with her husband with his best friend at her side. All of a sudden feeling an almost desperate need to escape, Donna found she couldn't budge as Jax's long and muscular legs were keeping her pinned to the mattress. Not wanting to disturb her overnight guest, she tried inching her way out of bed without much success. Donna was suddenly this close to panicking as, faced with the harsh reality of the morning after, the thought of having to face Jax after acting like a love-starved nymphomaniac _all night long_ overwhelmed her.

Unfortunately, Donna quickly realized she wouldn't be able to escape and do her own private walk of shame to the bathroom. She had been hoping to lock herself in there while Jax grabbed his shit and slipped out the front door, keeping true to outlaw biker tradition after a one night stand.

"Where you going?" The soft, raspy and sleep-filled voice echoed in the quiet room. Turning her head to the right, Donna found herself looking into the clear blue eyes of Jackson Teller.

 _It's just not fair. No man should look that fuckin' good this early in the morning_ , Donna thought as she took in his tousled hair, his bare muscular chest, and the very fine blond hairs of his belly trail leading to the apex of what had been the center of her universe just a short while ago.

"Oh shit." Donna moaned as she tried to pull herself free.

"Hold on a minute, Don." Jax tried to rub the confusion out of his eyes with the heels of his hands. "Where the fuck do you think you're going?"

"Anywhere but here." She sputtered as she tried in vain to get out of bed. "Let me go, Jax. Please." Having flipped the bedding away from her body, Donna gave her legs a mighty tug, and this time was successful in setting herself free. Scrabbling towards the foot of her bed, Donna felt a strong hand clasp onto her ankle in a tight vise.

"Oh no, darlin'! I don't think so." The outlaw biker said in a smooth voice and quickly, using his powerful upper body strength, dragged Donna back towards him as she squealed. Deftly grabbing onto her slim waist before she could get away again, Jax pulled her up and, in one quick, fluid motion, landed the petite young woman squarely on his lap. As he struggled to maneuver her legs around his waist, Donna squirmed helplessly as she cursed him with every vile name under the sun.

Suddenly winded, Donna realized that fighting against Jax's considerable strength was getting her nowhere and she stopped struggling. Instead, she refused to acknowledge him or the fact that her naked body was pressed so closely to his as he held her firmly around the waist. Bowing her head so that her chin was practically resting on her chest, Donna closed her eyes, hoping that the simple act of not seeing him would make him disappear altogether.

After the incredibly passionate night they had shared, however, Jax wasn't about to let her mentally check out on him. Releasing his hold on her waist, Jax gently cupped her face in his hands. "Stop it, Don. Look at me." He ordered in a gentle but firm tone.

Finally peeping up at him through dark lashes, she took in his calm and direct gaze. "I don't want to."

Jax chuckled. "Too fuckin' bad, darlin'. We have some important shit that needs discussing and I'd rather have you looking me straight in the eye when we do, got it?"

"I guess." Donna scowled.

"There's no more guessing between us, Don. I think it's pretty clear how we feel about each other." Jax whispered.

Sensing an argument against what he'd just said about to jump out of her mouth, he pulled her to him and placed a soft kiss on her lips. It was sweet, yet firm and coaxing. Jax nibbled on her bottom lip, forcing a soft moan out of Donna as her lips parted of their own accord to allow him access. Even then, however, Jax wasn't totally invasive as he allowed his tongue to slowly slip inside, its caress against hers caring and comforting.

But it wasn't enough for Donna. Opening her mouth wider, she deepened their kiss as she stretched her arms around his neck to bury her fingers in his hair and, with a deep groan, Jax willingly complied. He instantly felt himself harden against her, sure that Donna felt him twitch against her core as she gently ground her hips onto his hard-on. With his own hands buried in her mussed-up hair, Jax held her steady as he plundered her mouth, wanting nothing more than to lose himself in her tight silken heat again, as he had done numerous times over the last eight hours.

However, it was obvious that her first instinct had been to run away from him the moment the reality of their situation had hit her dead in the face. Jax knew that she was probably intent on sweeping last night under the rug, like she had the night on the couch, and he wasn't about to let that happen. Not when he had been waiting for this moment for so fuckin' long. So, instead of giving in to his need to feel himself inside of her again, Jax gently brought an end to their kiss, resting his forehead against hers.

"We really need to talk, Don." He said gently.

Pulling away from him, Donna saw the determined look in his bright blue eyes and sighed. "I thought it was solely a chick thing to want to talk shit out all the time. Haven't you heard? Talking's overrated."

"Not when it's about some really important shit, like what happened here last night." Jax replied.

Shrugging her shoulders, Donna allowed herself to wrap her arms around his neck. "Maybe what happened between us was an aberration, Jax. You know, just our hormones and the heat of the moment getting in the way of our friendship."

Jax shook his head. "An aberration comes out of nowhere, Don. It's unexpected. Us making love," Donna's eyes widen slightly at his choice of words. "Has been a long time coming. I think we both know this."

"Maybe," Donna hedged, dropping her eyes to the "Abel" tattoo on the left side of his chest in order to avoid his penetrating gaze. "But now that it's out of our system, I think it's best if we move forward like it didn't happen."

Using his index finger, Jax nudged Donna's chin up, forcing her to look at him. Donna felt the breath catch in her throat at the hurt look in his eyes. "Lately, you're the only person in my life I can count on for the truth, Donna. Please don't start lying to me now. More important, stop lying to yourself."

"Jax," Donna started, exasperated. "This is some really complicated shit—"

"You think I don't I know that?" Jax said a little heatedly, his brow furrowed. "This attraction you feel for me, you've been dealing with it for, what, weeks now?" He demanded. Donna's nod was barely perceptible. Jax shook his head as he smirked. Donna's brow furrowed as she noticed his suddenly red eyes. "I've been dealing with this shit, with my feelings for you, Don, for years. _YEARS_." His whisper was hoarse with emotion that even surprised him.

 _Jesus Christ_ , Donna thought. What was it about the Tellers—Jax and Gemma—that gave them the power to render her speechless? _Gobsmacked is the word you're looking for, honey. Gobsmacked. Again_ , she said to herself.

"Jax," Donna brought her hand to his cheek and Jax let his eyes close at the sensation of her gentle touch. "I had no idea."

His eyes suddenly flew open. "Good," He replied sincerely. "Because the last thing I wanted to do was break my brother's heart, but as much as I loved—still love—Ope, he's gone, Don and that leaves just you and me."

Donna shook her head. "And Ellie and Kenny. And Abel—"

" _And my mother_." Jax sighed wryly, but the look of sheer panic on her face forced him to laugh a little.

"Oh God!" Donna moaned, covering Jax's mouth with her hand. "Please, don't mention her right now. I don't think I can take it."

Grabbing her dainty little hand that had touched him in amazing ways last night, Jax placed a gentle kiss on it. "Why? Because maybe—interfering smart ass that she is—you don't wanna admit that Gemma was right?" Jax laughed again as the panicked look on her face was replaced by complete horror. "You know, I never thought the day would come when I might have to actually thank my mother for interfering in my life. I owe her one for riling you up, Don. I don't think I would have ever gotten the nerve to push up on you otherwise and what a loss that would've been, darlin'."

Donna swallowed the sudden lump in her throat. The warm glow of the early morning sun was creeping in through the blinds and softened the handsome features of Jax's face. He looked young, relaxed, and content. The usual creases furrowing his brow with worry were now smooth, as if a heavy burden had been lifted from his soul. Donna couldn't resist the urge to run her hand over his forehead, down the side of his face until she cupped his cheek again and, once again, Jax closed his eyes as he leaned into her touch.

Donna felt her heart rate pick up as the urge to kiss his beautifully shaped lips suddenly overwhelmed her. Instead, she snatched her hand away as what he had just said dawned on her.

"Jackson Nathaniel Teller, don't you fuckin' dare drop this shit into your mother's ear!" Donna threatened as Jax looked at her with a raised eyebrow and a small smile dancing on his lips.

"You know my middle name?" His blue eyes bore into hers. Not even the so-called love of his life Tara had known his middle name.

"We've known each other forever, Jax." Donna replied sadly. "And everything we know about each other should be enough to know that _this_ ," She held her arms out to encompass them both. "Is not a good idea."

Jax looked at her for a long time, a million thoughts running through his mind. None of those thoughts, however, even remotely agreed with what Donna had just said. She was scared and so was he, but he wasn't running and he sure as hell wasn't letting her run either!

"I know that sometimes bad ideas can feel really fuckin' good and last night, Don, was _really fuckin' amazing_." Jax said soberly. "But I think we owe it to each other to figure out what _this_ is because all I know for sure is that whatever it is, I don't want it to end just yet."

Looking into his eyes, seeing the emotion there, Donna had to admit that she didn't want it to end just yet either. "Okay," She replied quietly. "Let's talk."

Jax smiled broadly, the realization that her resolve was starting to melt dawning on them both. He was determined to hash shit out between them, even if it took all day, but first, he wanted another kiss. Burying his hands in her luxurious hair as she gripped his forearms, Jax pulled her into another explosive embrace. With Donna soft and pliant underneath his bruising kiss, Jax considered postponing their talk for another hour or two when his prepay started ringing. Planning to ignore it, its persistent ringing and the early hour made him think twice as his eyes roamed about the room.

"Shit! Where the fuck is it?" Jax growled as he reluctantly pulled himself out of her arms.

"Floor." Donna replied, her fingertips caressing her kiss-swollen lips.

Remembering that he had last shoved his prepay into the pocket of his jeans, Jax leaned over the side of the bed while still holding onto Donna and found his phone. Taking a quick look at the caller i.d., Jax hissed as he realized their talk was going to have to wait.

"Damn, it's Neeta."

* * *

Speeding down the street, Jax's heart was clenched into a tight ball in the middle of his chest as he worried about Abel. Riding behind him, plastered against his back with her arms tightly wound around his waist and under his shirt, was Donna. She was absently stroking the bare skin on his side, probably due to her own nerves, but Jax found it strangely comforting and soothing, the gentle rhythmic stroking keeping his fears from exploding into a full blown panic. Thanks to Donna, Jax was able to keep himself fully focused on getting to St. Thomas as quickly as possible—and in one piece—to meet up with his nanny and son.

After their first round of lovemaking the night before—a heated and passionate event that left them both wanting more—Jax had decided that there was no way he was ready to leave Donna's side. Having already made arrangements with Neeta to stay with Abel until eleven o'clock that evening, Jax had called home and asked Neeta if she wouldn't mind staying overnight. The kind-hearted woman had agreed, which allowed Jax to stay in the loving arms of his best friend's widow.

However, it seemed that while his father had enjoyed an incredible night with the unlikeliest of women, Abel had not been so fortunate. Cranky and irritable, his fretful cries had awoken Neeta, who had been fast asleep on the daybed in the nursery. Checking on Abel and realizing that he was running a slight fever, Neeta had given him a dose of infant Tylenol hoping that it would bring his temperature down during the night.

Instead, it continued to rise and by 6:00 a.m. had spiked to 100.4 degrees. Afraid that Abel might suffer a febrile seizure, Neeta had no choice but to reach out to Jax. With Abel being born prematurely only to find himself on the brink of death, any sign that something could be wrong with his son was enough to push Jax's worries about losing him to the forefront of his mind. Instructing Neeta to head over to St. Thomas, Jax was now breaking every vehicle and traffic law on the books in Charming as he furiously made his way to the hospital.

Always cool under pressure, Donna couldn't ever remember a time when she had seen Jax in such a state. He could barely get himself into his pants without tripping over several times. It was clear to Donna that the thought of his son being seriously ill had shaken him to his core. Even though Jax insisted he was fine and could head over to the hospital on his own, Donna knew she couldn't just let him head out all alone like a bat out of hell. When she asked if he wanted her to tag along, Jax snatched at the offer like it was a lifeline.

Hurriedly throwing on their discarded clothes, the couple made a beeline for Jax's bike that had spent the night in her driveway. For the first time in a very long time, Donna found herself on the back of another man's bike and, as the cool breeze of the early morning whipped around them, all Donna could do was pray that young Abel pulled through his latest set back. Although far from being fragile, Donna had no idea how Jax would be able to cope if he was struck by another tragedy.

Whatever happened, however, Donna was determined to stick by Jax's side and see him through it.

* * *

Sitting in the waiting room of St. Thomas' Pediatric Urgent Care Center, Donna sat patiently as she anxiously waited for news from Jax or Neeta on Abel's condition. She was alone with the exception of one other occupant keeping her company, an anxious parent waiting to be seen with a fussy infant. In spite of the wailing cries of the baby girl and her own concern over young Abel, Donna used the solitude to mull over her current situation with Jax.

Donna had volunteered to wait outside while the pediatric doctor on call examined Abel with Jax and Neeta never leaving his side. Donna needed the time alone to examine her own muddled feelings, which had her confused, yet hopeful at the same time. Having sex with Opie's best friend had not been a rational decision on her part. Even as their bodies had moved in a practiced rhythm as old as time, as if they had been doing this together for years, Donna had managed to convince herself that Jax would back-peddle his way out her door come morning. She had been totally unprepared, however, to hear him confess that he had been harboring feelings for her that had led them to this point for years.

 _What the hell am I supposed to do with that?_ The young woman fretted.

How was she supposed to deal with her own feelings for Jax without coming out of this looking like a lonely, pathetic widow? After all, there was a good chance she had misheard everything Jax had said to her this morning, right? Thinking about it now, Donna realized that her mind had indeed been a little foggy and she probably had the damn wine and whiskey she had gulped down the night before to blame.

 _Maybe_ , Donna reasoned with herself. _We never even had sex. Yeah, that makes sense_ , she thought even as the rational part of her mind was telling her that no, it didn't.

"I dreamed the whole damn thing." Donna whispered to herself. _That's my story and I'm sticking with it_.

 _Okay, idiot_ , rational Donna reprimanded her. _If you can convince Jax of that shit, than your power of mind control is even greater than Gemma's_.

Donna felt a sudden stabbing pain in her heart as she remembered the hurt look in Jax's eyes when she suggested they pretend that nothing had happened. Whatever feelings he had for her, it was obvious that Jax believed they were real. That thought terrified her, even as it made the woman in her rejoice.

_After everything I've been through, after everything my family's been through, how can I even think about getting involved with another biker?_

Donna had deeply loved her husband. It was that love that had allowed her to look past the outlaw to see the man inside, underneath the kutte. But the life she had envisioned with Opie had never come to fruition. Instead, Donna got a lot more than she had bargained for, like having Opie come home hurt after conducting "Club business" or not having him come home at all for five long years. But she had loved him, and even though Opie had offered her a divorce while in Chino, Donna chose to stick by her man. Even then, losing him the way she had, bloody and violent with him dying on the street like some animal, had been unexpected and it nearly destroyed her.

Donna shook her head, remembering the conversation she'd had with Jax during the Taste of Charming festival soon after Opie's release from prison. She had been riding Opie hard about leaning straight, working at the sawmill instead of down at the garage. Opie, desperate to make ends meet for his family, had been doing side jobs for the Club without her knowledge. When she found out, Donna had ripped into him, with Jax witnessing the whole thing. Jax had advised her that Opie needed to be all in or all out. The in-between shit was what could get him killed.

Jax had been right and, as much as she knew Opie loved SAMCRO, she wished she had listened. It was too late for her and Opie, but Donna knew that Jax Teller was the all-in type of outlaw. Because of that, Donna couldn't help but wonder that, without her fighting against his affiliation with SAMCRO, maybe things might be different between her and Jax.

Now sitting by herself in the middle of the waiting room, Donna bit her lip as her inner voice berated her for even entertaining the thought of getting involved with another member of SAMCRO. It was one thing if this was simply a no-strings-attached affair, but Jax had made it perfectly clear that wasn't what he had in mind. In spite of being a notorious pussy hound, Donna got the feeling that Jax was pushing for something else, something long term.

 _And how the fuck would that be possible with Clay and his unspoken threats looming over me like a specter_ , Donna reminded herself.

Wanting justice to prevail in Opie's name was the only reason Donna hadn't taken her kids away from Charming after her "talk" with Clay at Abel's welcome home party. It was why she had confided in Jax in the first place and why she had put her trust in him to find out the truth about the SAMCRO President's involvement in Opie's death. Getting involved with Jax on an intimate level wouldn't just complicate matters. It could get her killed.

Donna was so lost in her own thoughts that she didn't realize that she was no longer alone until the person standing in front of her spoke.

"Well, this is a surprise."

Startled, Donna looked up and into the inquisitive face of Dr. Tara Knowles.

* * *

"Uh—hi, Tara," Donna said a little warily as she noted the young woman that had caught her completely unawares. Donna tried to smile pleasantly. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize you were standing there. Guess I was too busy daydreaming."

"No worries," Tara replied as she looked at her with questioning eyes. "I was just getting ready to start my rounds when I saw you sitting here. I didn't think it was you at first." The doctor's eyes roamed around the waiting area. "Are you here with one of your kids?"

"No, actually, I'm here because of Abel." Donna replied absently. It was the Tara's sudden look of interest, however, that prompted Donna to stand up.

"Abel Teller was brought in this morning? I hadn't heard." Pulling out her pager, Tara took note of the fact that she had not received any calls. Dropping it back into the pocket of her lab coat, she focused a grim look on the petite brunette. "Why was he brought in?"

"Well, I, uh—" Donna hedged.

"I don't think anyone would have a problem with you telling me what's going on with Abel, Donna. After all, I've played a big part in his healthcare since the day he was born." The doctor all but ordered.

Despite feeling somewhat uncomfortable, Donna acceded to the doctor's request. "It seems he had a restless night because he was running a slight fever. The infant Tylenol didn't help, so Neeta brought Abel in first thing this morning to get him checked out and Jax and I met up with her here. They're with Dr. Janeway right now."

Quickly running through her mind for a probable diagnosis, Tara wrinkled her brow as she suddenly zeroed in on what Donna had said.

_. . . and Jax and I met up with her here._

Tara Knowles was a thinker. It was what she did. Sometimes her brain refused to shut down, running a 100 miles an hour, jumping from point to point. It would literally drive her crazy at times. But as usual, her brain did not let her down now. Her brain had quickly processed everything she had heard. Like the fact that it was early on a Saturday morning. That Jax had not been at home when Abel had taken ill overnight. That the outlaw biker had instead met his babysitter at the hospital.

And that he hadn't come alone.

Finally letting herself get a good look at Donna, Tara's eyes widened slightly as she noted what seemed to be bed-head hair that had been hastily thrown into a ponytail, a wrinkled and mis-buttoned fleece shirt covering an equally wrinkled tank top. But it was the faint bruises on Donna's throat and the unmistakable redness under her chin line caused by a man's beard that made Tara's heart tighten painfully in her chest.

Suddenly finding it difficult to breath, Tara inhaled deeply and to her shock, realized that there was an ever-so-faint odor in the air surrounding her. It was a familiar combination of spicy aftershave, man sweat and the musky scent of sex.

 _Well, shit_ , Tara thought with no little amount of anger. _Seems like the merry widow wasted no time in taking Mother Gemma up on her offer_.

As Tara's narrowed eyes glared down at her, Donna's heart nearly sank in her chest. She could read the knowledge in the doctor's eyes. Clearly, Donna had said too much and Tara had been able to piece together the fact that she and Jax had been intimate. As the doctor continued to eye her angrily, Donna felt her cheeks suddenly grow warm.

But not from shame.

_Who does this bitch think she is to be looking at me like that?_

"Is there something you would like to get off your chest, Dr. Knowles?" Donna asked, her hands on her hips.

Tara swallowed the sudden lump in her throat. After witnessing Donna take Gemma on, she should have known that the woman was not one to back away from confrontation.

"How do you think Wendy would feel if she knew?" Tara practically hissed through clenched teeth.

 _That's what you're going with?!_ Donna was dumbfounded. _Fuckin' hypocrite!_

"Oh, I don't know. Probably the same way she felt watching you ram your tongue down Jax's throat in her own home." Donna replied.

"We both know it's not the same thing." Tara countered.

"You know, you're right. It's not the same," Donna nodded. "At least we had the decency to do what we did in the privacy of _my own home_."

Flustered, Tara's eyes darted around the room. The last thing she wanted to do was focus on the woman standing before her, who had obviously been thoroughly fucked by Jax Teller.

_My Jax Teller._

"Did Jax at least call Wendy? Let her know that _her son_ was back in the hospital?" Tara asked angrily.

Donna shook her head as she smoothed a few loose tendrils of dark hair away from her face. "Cut the bullshit, Tara. You don't give a shit about Wendy."

"She still has the right to know. As Abel's mother, I think it would hurt her to know that _someone else_ was here in her place."

Determined to remain civil, Donna refused to take the doctor's bait. "That's something you would have to discuss with Jax. Then again, he might just tell you to mind your own fuckin' business. Either way, his main concern at the moment is his son's health, not the hurt feelings of an _ex-love_." She said pointedly, making it clear to Tara that she wasn't referring to Wendy.

Noting the angry glint in the younger woman's deep blue-green eyes, Tara suddenly realized that she had indeed overstepped her bounds and was about to start some shit she had no business getting involved in. At the moment, she might not have a claim on Jackson Teller, but she did have a strong connection with him. Not only did they share a romantic past, but Tara had used her knowledge and surgical skills to help save the life of his son. In turn, Jax had stepped in to save her from a former-boyfriend turned stalker. But looking at the petite, fresh-faced beauty and knowing that she had been with Jax just that morning was a difficult piece of news for her to swallow, especially since Tara knew that Gemma Teller had suddenly switched sides and was currently on Team Donna.

At this point, all the doctor could do was hope that whatever this was between Jax and Donna wasn't serious. The wisest thing to do would be to back off before Donna saw her as a challenger for Jax's affections and proceeded with her pursuit of the biker at full throttle.

Tara closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, Donna." She lied. "It really wasn't my place to say anything. If you'll excuse me, I'll check on Dr. Janeway and see if he has any news I can share regarding Abel." Donna watched as the doctor turned on her heel and headed down the corridor.

Sitting back down in her chair, Donna crossed her legs and considered the one thing she had overlooked concerning the possibility of embarking on a relationship with Jax: all of the women currently tugging on him. Regardless of how Tara, Wendy, or even Gemma thought, planned or schemed, they were in for a rude awakening. It was clear that Jax was focusing on moving forward.

Whether or not she would be ready to move forward with him, or even that he wanted her to, remained to be seen. Whatever decision Jax ended up making, after what happened between them last night, Donna hoped she would be able to accept it.

* * *

**A/N: So it's official: Jax Teller knows what he wants and it ain't Wendy and it sure as hell ain't Tara. It's his best friend's old lady Donna Winston and, now that he's had her, he has no intention of letting go.**

**It took a while for all of the drama to finally come to a head, but with the good doctor being the first to know about the fledgling couple, more drama is still to come. Dr. Knowles is still hoping that her connection with Jax will thwart Gemma's plan for her son's "happily-ever-after" with Donna.**

**Stay tuned for the next chapter when Jax and Donna finally get the chance to have the "talk", a newly-enlightened Gemma decides to take a different approach, and we find out how Clay really feels about the budding relationship!**

**As this story quickly approaches its conclusion, your reviews are especially crucial. You guys really made my day with the ten reviews I received. A number of them were really insightful to me and I appreciate hearing your thoughts on the characters and what you liked and disliked about the story to date. Your continued feedback will determine whether or not I decide to continue developing this alternate universe, so please keep up the good work and keep sending me reviews.**

**Although it may not be everyone's cup of tea, it certainly is a different take on the "Jax's Old Lady" scenario and I, for one, would love to see how this plays out. So please let me know your thoughts on the possible continuation of what I hope will become the "Dax Universe!"**

**—Harlee**


	12. We Got It Covered

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy.**

* * *

Cuddling quite happily in a pair of loving arms, Abel Teller had absolutely no idea how much panic and fear he had stirred up in the heart of his old man. Obviously feeling much better, the young infant had no cares in the world as he enthusiastically kicked his legs and simultaneously waved his little fists in the air as he gurgled and cooed. Looking at him now, it was almost impossible to tell that only hours before he had given his father Jax Teller the scare of his life.

With several fine blond hairs peeking out from underneath the light blue skull cap embossed with the SOA Reaper and a matching onesie, Abel made an endearing picture as he stared deeply into the adoring blue-green eyes of the woman holding him. Seemingly entranced with every sound the infant made, Donna Winston suddenly gave a surprised little yelp when, without warning, Abel's small starfish hand landed on her breast and energetically squeezed her nipple through her thin and wrinkled tank top.

"Already taking after your father, I see." Donna murmured, wincing a little as she cradled him to her chest and gently pried his small fist open to loosen his grip. "I bet you're gonna grow up to be quite the breast man, huh? Isn't that right?" Donna cooed at Abel and laughed as the baby let out a happy, yet powerful screech and pumped his fists with vigor.

"Six months old and he's already copped his first feel. He's makin' his old man real proud." Leaning against the open doorway, Jax grinned into Donna's startled eyes as he held a bottle of formula in his hand. The outlaw biker had been quietly watching the pair as they sat on the daybed in his son's nursery for several minutes before making his presence known.

Watching Abel interact with Donna was probably the most natural and touching thing Jax had seen in a long time. Not much different from the feelings she had stirred in him the night before, Jax felt warm and satisfied as he watched Donna cooing at and caressing his son. It tugged at his heart to see Abel respond to Donna's maternal instincts as if this little cuddle session was the norm between them. Jax couldn't remember ever seeing Abel look so happy and content in his own birth mother's arms. It was almost always quite the opposite, actually, with Abel seemingly aware that he was in the care of a novice and none too shy about letting his displeasure about it known.

Even though it was just him and his son now, Jax was grateful that Wendy had decided to do her transitional therapy and occupational training at Lincoln Village. She had been doing well as an outpatient, but the stress of learning to be a mother to the son she hadn't had the chance to bond with while trying to remain sober proved to be too much. Wendy had moved out soon after Jax had returned from his run to Eureka and found his son shrieking in his crib with his mother clueless as to what she should do about it. Gemma hadn't been too happy about Wendy leaving, blaming Jax for being too hard on her, but with Abel's day-to-day care now in the competent hands of Neeta Benson, Jax didn't give a shit what his mother had to say.

As a matter of fact, in recent weeks, Jax had come to rethink his promise to Wendy about giving their relationship another shot for Abel's sake. For Abel's sake, in his opinion, it was best to end things outright. Jax was tired of feeling responsible for Wendy's sobriety—or lack thereof—and he was tired of the guilt he felt each time she relapsed. Maybe this time, without Jax in the picture, Wendy would make it through rehab and stay sober for good.

In the past, Wendy had blamed Jax's unfaithfulness for her downward spiral into drug use. While Jax was ready to shoulder the blame for the part he had played _before_ their reconciliation, Wendy using drugs while pregnant was all on her. Knowing that he would never be able to get past the resentment he felt towards her for the damage she had caused their son, the only shot Abel had of a normal life would be if his parents didn't try to work things out.

Jax was resolved to end things once and for all after Wendy was finished at Lincoln Village. At the moment, however, all thoughts of his ex-wife left his head as he watched his son, whose happy exuberance after his recent health crisis gave him a sense a relief he hadn't felt since Neeta called early that morning.

Not knowing what was wrong with his son had made the last eight hours spent waiting in St. Thomas' Pediatric Urgent Care Center the longest of his life. He might not have the skills necessary to make his son better, but Jax Teller was a man of action and standing around with his thumb up his ass while doctors and nurses poked and prodded at Abel and ran every test under the sun had almost driven him insane. With Gemma missing in action, Jax was glad that both Neeta and Donna had insisted on staying by his side the entire time. Having them there, especially Donna, who hadn't been shy about holding his hand to calm him down and comfort him, had given Jax something to do other than just think. After all Little Man had been through, the thought of losing his son now was enough to paralyze Jax with fear.

Having Tara suddenly show up in the exam room while Abel was being seen by her associate had been particularly unnerving to Jax. Thinking that she had been paged to consult because they had found something wrong with Abel's heart, Tara had quickly waved him off, advising in a clipped, ice-cold tone that she just wanted to follow up with Dr. Janeway in case he needed her to take over. Virtually ignoring Jax as Dr. Janeway briefed her on Abel's condition, and before Jax got the chance to question her about the vague attitude he was detecting from her, Dr. Knowles quickly left, claiming she had just received a page to assist Dr. Namid on an emergency surgery.

Jax, however, didn't have time to dwell on Tara or on whatever was bothering her. After undergoing a thorough examination and being tested for everything from meningitis to encephalitis, Jax, Donna, and Neeta had waited anxiously for hours until the results of Abel's blood work had come back giving him the all clear. Having ruled out any potential problems that could get complicated in conjunction with Abel's congenital heart disorder, Dr. Janeway finally assured Jax that his son's irritability, sleeplessness and slight temperature were the result of teething. Waiting until Abel's temperature was back to normal, the doctor discharged the baby and his relieved father with instructions on how to reduce the pain and swelling of his sore gums.

In spite of spending the entire day together, Neeta's presence had prevented Jax and Donna from discussing what had happened between them the night before. With Neeta driving Abel back home from St. Thomas in her car, Jax and Donna had followed close behind on his bike, allowing Jax to reason out his plan of action concerning his best friend's skittish widow. He hoped that once they were alone and he got Abel settled down for the night that the two of them would have a long talk.

Having thanked Neeta for all her help, Jax had escorted her to her car before heading back into the kitchen to prepare a bottle for Abel. Now as he walked over to the pair comfortably ensconced in the nursery, he was determined to have it out with the petite brunette, who was now eyeing him with a satirical eye.

"Teller men," Donna quipped. "Are also a pain in the ass, so try and break that cycle, okay sweetheart?" She said to Abel and grinned as the infant bounced his head up and down seemingly in agreement.

"Yo, Kid," Jax complained playfully. "You're supposed to have your old man's back, not fraternize with the enemy."

"Fraternize with the enemy, huh? Seems you might be more guilty of that than he is." She snarked as Jax sat down next to her. Donna barely managed to hold back a squeal as he stretched his long arm around her shoulders to rest it comfortably along the back of the daybed. The action of his weight settling next to her, however, caused her body to roll quite neatly into the crook of his arm.

Looking up into Jax's face, Donna was determined to ignore his flirty smile, but failed miserably at ignoring the pair of hot biker lips that landed on her mouth. Kissing her slowly, yet invasively, just as Donna felt her eyes drift closed, Jax pulled away.

"What was that for?" She whispered as she blinked several times to get her eyes back in focus.

Jax flashed her a crooked smile as he shrugged his shoulder. "I've been wanting to do that all day, darlin', but if I need a reason to kiss you, then right now I have two." He handed her the warm bottle he had prepared. "One, I like kissing you. I like it _a lot_ , Don. And two, I'm grateful you were with me today at the hospital, but I'm really glad you decided to stay after Neeta left because we have a lot to talk about."

Checking the temperature of the formula on her wrist, Donna paused for a beat as her eyes met Jax's earnest gaze. Donna let out a little sigh as she turned her attention back to Abel and offered him the bottle. The baby quickly latched on and began sucking greedily. "Yup, just like his old man." She smiled as she watched Abel thoroughly enjoy his meal.

"No way, darlin'. When I suck on a nipple, I like to take my time." Jax bent his head to the side and placed a soft kiss on the side of her neck. "I think you can attest to that shit." He murmured close to ear and watched as Donna's cheeks turned a delicate shade of pink.

Closing her eyes, Donna felt her own nipples tighten in response against her shirt. Cursing herself for foregoing a bra in her haste to get ready before Jax took off for the hospital without her, she could only hope he hadn't noticed her near instant response to him. Peeping up at him through her dark lashes, Donna couldn't help but chuckle as she noted Jax's eyes were currently glued to her chest. Shaking her head slightly, Donna turned her attention back to Abel.

This morning, Donna had readily agreed to discuss their situation, but at the hospital, after her little confrontation with Tara Knowles, she decided that she needed more time on her own to sort through her feelings. Donna knew that giving herself time and space away from Jax would ultimately allow her to make a rational and responsible decision in spite of what Jax was pushing for.

Riding back from the hospital, as Jax prepared his plan of attack, Donna was thinking to enlist Neeta in her escape by asking her for a ride home. After speaking to her children earlier in the day for the first time since dropping them off, Donna's mother had pressed her to drop by so she could visit with her brother and his family. Although that was a situation she had wanted to avoid at all costs, at this point she was better prepared to deal with her relatives than a probing outlaw biker.

However, Donna had seemingly sabotaged herself by becoming completely enthralled by little Abel and soon lost all track of time and her surroundings as she saw to his needs. Now that Kenny and Ellie were grown and fairly self-sufficient, Donna had almost forgotten how much she had loved taking care of them when they were babies and spending time with Abel had reawakened a lot of those old feelings.

Upon entering the house, practically pushing poor Neeta aside, Donna had volunteered to give Abel a bath. The little boy loved the water and she and Abel had spent a good thirty minutes washing up and playing as he splashed around, totally drenching Donna. Finally pulling him out of the tub and wrapping him in a warm towel, she had carried Abel back to the nursery. With Neeta and Jax watching, she had gently dried him off and smothered him in baby lotion and powder. After dressing him in a fresh diaper, skull cap and onesie, they had taken a seat on the comfortable daybed to play and cuddle. Loving the attention as Donna delighted in every giggle and happy shriek he made, Abel decided to show off by pushing himself onto his feet as she held him up by his little hands. Using his strong, chubby legs, Abel jumped up and down on her lap until he exhausted himself.

By the time Abel had settled down on her lap once again for a boisterous round of peek-a-boo, Donna hadn't even noticed that Neeta was about to leave until Jax escorted her out of the nursery and to the front door. For the next ten minutes, while keeping Abel entertained, Donna brooded over the fact that she hadn't really sabotaged herself at all and had in fact been dreading leaving Jax's side.

"Since we last spoke about this," Donna turned her gaze to Jax. "No chance that you've changed your mind about sweeping what happened last night under the rug?"

Jax smirked. "Nope. No chance at all, darlin'." Allowing his arm that had been resting on the back of the daybed to fall to her shoulder, Donna found herself pressed snugly against Jax's side. Although she didn't mind one bit, Donna still couldn't help but feel like the prey of a tall, blond and sexy wolf.

"Okay," Donna conceded, deciding to plunge right in. "What happened last night was—" She trailed off, suddenly losing her nerve to argue against anything sexual or romantic between them.

"Fuckin' fantastic." Jax finished for her, smiling as her cheeks once again turned a bright pink. "C'mon, what? You don't feel the same way?" He asked, outwardly cocky, yet inwardly feeling his chest tighten as he waited for her reply.

Donna was shaking her head and, for a moment, Jax's face fell. "Fantastic is too tame, Jax." She admitted in a near whisper. "Amazingly explosive seems more appropriate."

Leaning back, the self-satisfied smile returned to the biker's handsome face. "Whew! You had me wondering there for a minute that maybe I was off my game last night."

"You're shitting me, right?" Donna sniffed as she rolled her eyes. "For years, I thought rumors of your, a-hem, _skills_ were greatly exaggerated."

"And now?" Jax asked with a raised eyebrow.

Donna cleared her throat. "At the risk of inflating your ego even further, I have to say, I don't think that way anymore." She said wryly and, as their eyes met, what should have been an awkward moment had them both laughing. Suddenly, it seemed like the tension had left the room and they were just Jax and Donna again, two people who had been friends since they were teens.

For a few minutes, they sat in comfortable silence as Donna turned her attention back to Abel, who had already finished half of his bottle. Pulling it out of his tiny mouth and handing it to his father, she quickly flipped a towel over her shoulder. Placing him against the towel, Donna gently patted his back in smooth circular motions until Abel let out a resounding burp.

As Donna once again settled his son in her arms to continue feeding him, Jax buried the hand on her shoulder into the thick hair at the back of her head. Feeling her shiver slightly, he used his other hand to gently tip her chin up. "Last night was the best night of my life in a long, _long_ time, Don. It was special and I'm hoping you feel the same way."

Donna felt her lip tremble as she saw the raw need in his eyes. "I do." She admitted. "To be honest, Jax, in recent weeks, I've been feeling this incredible tension whenever you're around. This incredible attraction and I've been fighting with myself about it, for obvious reasons, but I'd be lying if I said I hadn't thought about it, that I didn't want it to happen. I'm—" She stopped, hesitant to continue.

"What, darlin'? Just say it."

"I'm just confused, you know, about what you said." Donna looked into his eyes again. "I mean about how long you—"

"Wanted you?" Jax whispered.

Donna nodded her head shakily. "That was some serious shit to drop on me, Jax. I can't help but feel like that's something we should have talked about before falling into bed."

"We didn't just fall into bed, Don." Jax countered.

Donna nodded her head in agreement. "I know, but after what happened between us, I'm just not sure I know how to respond to that."

_Other than admitting that my toes nearly curled when you said it._

Jax let his gaze fall from hers and Donna instantly regretted bringing it up as she could see his brow crease in self-recrimination. "Jax, I didn't—" She started, but Jax stopped her with a shake of his head.

"No, darlin', you have every right to feel the way you do." He assured her "Trust me, it was hard enough admitting to myself feeling that way about you, I can only imagine what it feels like to hear that shit coming from your old man's best friend."

Donna let her mouth quirk up into a half smile. "It _was_ kinda shocking."

"No shit?" Jax teased.

Turning her attention to the beautiful baby in her arms, contentedly sucking away at his bottle, Donna bent towards him and pressed a kiss on his sweet-smelling forehead. Looking to Jax, her heart nearly exploded in her chest at the loving way he was looking at her, as if she were the only woman in creation.

"I know you said we owe it to ourselves to see where this goes, Jax," Donna started. "But I'm afraid that all we're gonna end up doing is ruining a friendship." She said honestly.

"Donna, you can't go into this thinking that way." Jax replied.

"I can't help it, Jax. I'm not sure I understand where you're coming from in this. All I know is that I'm not like any of the old ladies down at the Clubhouse. I can't turn a blind eye to your indiscretions and I won't ever tolerate being lied to and not telling me you're screwing around on the side is lying—"

"Whoa! Hold on, darlin'," Jax started with mock-indignation. "You calling me a man-whore?"

"Man-whore, slut-puppy, pussy-hound—"

"Well, shit, don't let my delicate feelings keep you from telling me how you really feel." Jax teased, forcing Donna to giggle.

"I'm sorry if I hurt your _delicate feelings_ , but I would hate to experiment with our friendship and fail miserably. After the novelty of being with me wears off—"

"Stop, Donna." Jax started sternly, the teasing glint gone from his eyes. "What I feel for you is not a novelty. I knew you were special since Opie first started dating you back in high school, but I didn't just love Ope like a brother. He _was_ my brother and instead of envying what he had found in you, I was happy for him. Still, I couldn't stop myself from wanting to find a girl like you and the closest I ever came was Tara." He explained, his eyes probing as if looking for something in Donna's. "Like you, she was different from the girls that hung around the MC—pretty, super smart, wholesome and too good for me and it took a long time to convince her to even go out with me. We were inseparable and I liked to believe that we were in love, but I knew from day one that she had one foot out of Charming. I knew that it was just a matter of time before she picked up and left, leaving me again with this insatiable need for something I couldn't have. I needed Tara in my life to the point that keeping her became an obsession and I thought I would die if I didn't spend every moment of every fuckin' day with her, but it wasn't for the reason everyone thought at the time. My mom hated Tara, said she was distracting me from the Club, but the only thing Tara was distracting me from was you, darlin'."

Riveted, Donna couldn't look away from Jax even if she wanted to. In all the years they had been friends, they had never discussed his relationship with Tara and their break up over ten years ago. As far as everyone knew, Tara leaving Charming for San Diego had devastated him and the only way he had managed to cope was by completely throwing himself into Club life. If what he was telling her was true, then the permanent sadness that had taken up residence in his eyes all those years ago had nothing to do with a love lost, but with unrequited love.

All the more shocking was the realization that, as he poured his heart out to her, Donna couldn't see that sadness in Jax anymore.

* * *

After a long day of intensive retail therapy with Luann Delaney, the last thing Gemma Teller-Morrow expected was to come home to discover her son in the company of Donna Winston.

In fact, having hit Charming's city limits shortly after five o'clock, the SAMCRO matriarch's only intention had been to get home before Clay did. She was still riding the high of having snagged a pair of Alexander McQueen boots at 75% off and the last thing she wanted was her old man ruining her good mood. She needed to get home ASAP in order to sneak all of her purchases inside in order to hide them with enough time left over to get a good meal on the stove before Clay walked in through the door.

Getting rid of the so-called "evidence"—at least until the credit card bills started coming in—was imperative if Gemma wanted to avoid Clay's "you're-spending-money-like-its-going-out-of-style " speech, which was usually followed by the "how-many-goddamn-boots-does-one-woman-need" lecture. One would think that a man fond of reaping _all_ of the benefits of a happy (and stylish) wife would learn to stop grousing about her melting his damn plastic.

 _After all, happy wife, happy life_.

In a rush to pick Luann up early that morning, Gemma had left her cell phone charging in the kitchen. The minute she and the Porn Queen had set foot inside the new high-end boutique mall in San Leandro, Gemma had slipped into warrior-mode. Determined not to let anyone get between her and several designer bargains she had her eye on, it never occurred to Gemma to wonder why her phone had been so quiet during the day. It wasn't until she searched through her bag for her car keys for the trip back to Charming that she realized she had left her phone at home.

After dropping Luann at the studio, Gemma used the OnStar communication system in her Caddy to touch base with her grandson's sitter. Only then did she discover that things had gone awry concerning her grandson while she had been on her shopping spree.

Neeta's initial attitude was a clear indication that she was unhappy that she had not been able to reach Gemma during the crisis. But upon hearing the concern in Gemma's voice, the motherly woman quickly assured her that her grandson was now doing fine and was currently enjoying the company of his father.

 _And Donna Winston_.

After squeezing a few pertinent details from her, Gemma thanked Neeta for all her help and quickly disconnected the call. Barely hitting the brakes, Gemma changed the direction of her car and headed straight to Jax's house. While grateful that her grandson was doing just fine, it was the tidbits of savory Intel that Neeta had dropped on her concerning Jax that had Gemma smiling from ear to ear.

_Jax asked Neeta to stay the night with Abel._

_Looking like he had just rolled out of bed, he had met Neeta at the hospital very early that morning . . . with an equally rumpled-looking Donna Winston in tow._

_When Neeta had left, Donna was playing with Abel in the nursery and looked in no rush to leave._

Although Neeta was discreet—the number one requirement for any outsider working for a member of the Club—she and Gemma had developed a vague manner of communicating that relayed to Gemma that Neeta knew exactly what was going on. Even though many had questioned Gemma's decision to hire the recent parolee from the Women's Facility in Chowchilla, Gemma had had a good feeling about the woman. Now realizing that Neeta's keen observation skills would work to her advantage as her eyes on the "inside", she was quickly starting to appreciate and respect Abel's nanny.

As Gemma had pressed her for little details, Neeta had told her exactly what she wanted to hear. Apparently, Donna had made quite an impression on her. And, Neeta noted, it seemed that the young widow had done the same with Abel. Neeta had not only observed how well she interacted with the young infant, but with his father as well.

"It seemed to me, Gemma," Neeta had explained in a soft-spoken voice that Gemma heard as clear as a bell in spite of the noisy traffic. "That your boy really appreciated her being there with him. Poor Jackson was nervous and worried about Abel and rightly so, but she seemed to calm him down a lot. A real soothing presence, if you know what I mean, and very competent." And Gemma had readily agreed. She knew exactly what Neeta meant.

Neeta related how that competence was demonstrated as Donna took care of Abel when they had returned to the house. "Why, she was like a mama bear tending to her cub. Wouldn't let me get within arm's reach, the way she was fussing and taking care of that beautiful baby. And Abel's daddy seemed to appreciate it very much indeed." She said in a knowing tone.

Gemma smiled to herself. _Neeta has no idea just how right she is_ , she thought with her back pressed firmly against the wall in the hallway right outside Abel's nursery.

Gemma's plan had not been to eavesdrop. Aside from checking up on her grandson, her sole purpose for dropping by unannounced had been to catch Jax with his hand in the proverbial cookie jar. What she got was so much more and completely unexpected.

Parking her car in Jax's car port on the side of the house, as was her custom, Gemma had entered through the door that led into the kitchen. She had noticed Jax's bike parked on the street, probably to allow Neeta to park her car in the driveway after they had returned from the hospital. It was still light out, so no lights were on inside and the house was deathly quiet. Had she not seen both Jax's ride and his truck outside, she would have guessed that no one was home.

Making her way through the kitchen, she cut across the carpeted living room and was about to call out when she heard hushed voices speaking in earnest coming from down the hall. Quietly approaching the nursery, by the time Gemma realized what she was ear-witnessing, she was nailed to the spot, unable to move even if it meant getting caught.

What had started out as light-hearted and flirty banter had quickly morphed into something more as Jax and Donna discussed what had happened between them the night before. After her conversation with Neeta, Gemma had already come to the conclusion and there had been no doubt in her mind that her son—as Clay would say—had tapped the Merry Widow. What had Gemma propping herself up against the wall to keep from falling on her face as she covered her mouth in an effort to keep quiet was the fact that Jax Teller, the Don Juan of the MC World, was pouring his heart out to his best friend's widow!

After so many years, it finally dawned on Gemma that her son hadn't spent over a decade pining over the doctor bitch. From the sound of it, Tara Knowles had been a distraction masquerading as first love bullshit, as Jax had so eloquently put it months ago.

Apparently, Donna Winston had been the woman Jax had wanted all along.

* * *

Even though his ever-vigilant mind was telling Jax that yes, he had heard the back door open and close, he was too busy drowning in the blue-green pools of Donna's eyes to really take notice. Now that he had her rapt attention, Jax was determined to get it all off his chest.

"By the time Opie got sent away, I had been with so many fuckin' women that I didn't even see their faces anymore." He continued. "When Ope asked me to watch out for you and the kids while he was on the inside, I tried convincing myself that I would have done it anyway because the less my brother had to worry about while in Chino, the easier his time would go. But the truth was, I needed you and the kids in my life probably more than you needed me." Jax admitted. "All that time without Ope, you kept me sane, Don, but spending time with you only reminded me why I had pursued Tara in the first place. I was looking for someone like you because I couldn't have you. You're beautiful, and loyal and you loved my brother fiercely. I _never_ had that with anyone, not even Tara. It was then that my feelings for you started getting really _complicated_."

Looking into Jax's eyes and seeing the heartfelt emotion reflected there, Donna would have to be dead not to feel compassion in her heart for him. "You hid it well, Jax." She almost whispered. "During the time Ope was away, I couldn't have made it without you. You helped us financially. You were my shoulder to cry on. You were always there when I needed you, yet . . . I had no idea."

Jax's brow furrowed. "But you pulled away from me, Donna. Those last couple of years Ope was inside, you pretty much shut me out of your life. I know now why you did it—people were talking shit about us that wasn't true—but did you really think I would take advantage of my brother like that by pushing up on you? I know I'm a man-whore, but no matter how I felt about you then, I never would have—"

Donna was shaking her head. "Jax, you don't have to defend yourself because it wasn't like that. I didn't care what was said about me. I wanted to protect you and your friendship with Ope from that petty bullshit. I figured the more distance between us, the less likely those stupid, hurtful rumors would ever get back to him."

"So Ope didn't know, what people were saying?" He asked quietly.

"No, he didn't. You have to believe that." Donna insisted. "Opie was grateful for everything you did for us. And even if he had heard—which I'm sure he didn't—he never would have believed it. He loved you so much, Jax."

"And I love him too," Jax almost whispered. "And as much as I know that he loved you, I also know he wouldn't want you to put your life on hold anymore, Don." And Jax knew this to be true because he had been the one to talk Opie out of asking Donna for a divorce when he had first arrived in Chino. "I don't think he would begrudge you finding happiness again with another man, do you?" Jax held his breath as the silence deepened between them.

"No." Donna finally admitted as she looked in his eyes. Seeing that Abel had finished his bottle and was starting to fall asleep, Donna made quick work of burping him. Getting up to place the sleepy infant in his crib, Jax followed her, standing by her side as they both watched his son. "What happened last night didn't take place in a vacuum, Jax. This isn't about Opie and it's not just about you and me. What we do also has an affect our children—Abel, Kenny, and Ellie." She shook her head. "And then there are all of _your women_."

Pulling Donna back with him to settle down on the daybed again, Jax decided to tackle the last statement first. "I don't have any other women, Don."

Donna snorted. "There's Gemma—"

"Whoa! Unless you want me to never get hard again, do not refer to Gemma as—" Jax hesitated, unable to say it. "As such. She's my mother and I will handle her."

"Okay, you do that. I can barely tolerate my mother asking me how my day went," Donna declared. "I certainly won't be able to handle your mother involving herself in our shit."

" _Our shit_ , huh? I think I like that." Jax flashed her a knowing smile.

Donna narrowed her eyes at him. "That's not what I meant and you know it."

"Yeah it is." Jax teased, his smile lighting up his face. "Don't you know? We got shit going on, baby."

Practically against her will, Jax forced a girly giggle out of Donna. "Stop trying to change the subject."

"I wasn't," Jax said, all wide-eyed innocence. "We're talking about us, right?"

Donna shook her head. "We were talking about _your women_."

"Okay, you keep saying that, but what women are you talking about?" Jax asked befuddled. "You make it sound like I have a harem or something."

"Wendy—" Donna started but Jax interrupted.

"The divorce will be final in less than two months, darlin'."

"Does she know this?" Donna quirked an eyebrow. "Because she seemed pretty adamant about making things work with you during Abel's welcome home party."

Jax shook his head. "That was before. Things have changed."

"Which leads us to the _third_ woman," Donna crossed her arms over her chest. "These 'things' that have 'changed', do they have anything to do with the near-Tonsillectomy the good doctor performed on you at Abel's party without the benefit of anesthesia?"

Okay, so he had to give Donna that one, but apparently, she wasn't listening when he had explained his involvement with Tara. "I know what that _looked_ like, Don, but let me tell you what it _really_ was."

"I know what it was, Jax. It was Tara making it clear for everyone in that room that she was staking a claim on you." Donna replied. "And to back it up, she came at me pretty hard this morning once she figured out that we did more than just hang out last night."

Jax's eyes widened. " _What_?"

"She guessed," Donna said as she avoided looking at him. "That we had been _together_ last night." She shrugged her shoulders. "It may have been something I said when I explained why Abel was in the hospital, but I just think she could smell you on me. I was—I am—a sex funky mess, Jax and apparently, even after ten years, a woman can't ever forget the scent of Jax Teller."

 _Shit, I guess that explains the weird vibe I picked up on coming from Tara this morning_ , Jax thought ruefully.

He should have known actually, since it hadn't been the first time Jax had been treated to one of Tara's patented "I know what you've been up to" glares. There had been more than one occasion while they had been dating when he had ended up in bed with a woman that was not Tara. _That_ look was usually followed up by some poor unsuspecting woman getting his stank beat off her.

Looking at the woman sitting next to him, her arms crossed under her chest, Jax noted the resolute expression on her face. It was clear to Jax that he wasn't dealing with Tara. Donna was a whole different breed of woman and for the first time in his life, Jax would be accountable to the person he was in a relationship with. He knew Donna wouldn't have it any other way. If she would have it at all, that is.

Running her free hand through her hair, Donna sighed. "After what I experienced with you last night, Jax, I would probably kick myself for the rest of my life if I didn't let myself see where we could take this. But I can't compromise who I am for it." She explained. "It might take me a minute to figure out what I want, but I already know what I don't. I don't want to be one of many, Jax. Loyalty works both ways. Also, I'm not a damsel in distress in constant need of rescuing. I've been through my fair share of shit over the last ten years and I've managed to come through it all with my head still above water. Out of the two of us, you're the one that has to go into this with his eyes wide open, Jax. I might not be what you're used to—I know _I'm not_ what you're used to. I'm not the type of woman that needs to escape her problems by using drugs and I'm not the delicate little flower that will run at the first sign of trouble. But in the end, I want all the same things you do: loyalty and to be loved fiercely by a man and not have that love compromised by a never-ending pussy buffet." She concluded. Finally allowing her hands to fall into her lap, she folded them as she eyed the SAMCRO VP.

Sitting there and listening to Donna pour her own heart out, Jax couldn't even begin to comprehend how proud he was of her. Donna Winston might be a tiny, slip of a woman, but she was made from a strong substance. She was stubborn to a fault, opinionated, honest, tough-minded and unafraid to speak her mind. Jax knew he would be treading new territory with her and, even though it made him a little nervous, he couldn't wait to start.

Jax cleared his throat. "I have to say, darlin', now that I'm seeing myself through your eyes, I'm coming across like a hot mess. Just don't let that scare you away yet, okay? I know that for a while, after Ope died, I was in my own death spiral. Only recently have I felt that things are changing for the better and you've played a big part in that. I have a clearer sense of direction and what I need to do to change things around, not only at the Clubhouse but in my own life, too. You think you know what I want, but let me clear some things up for you."

"Okay. I'm listening." Donna conceded.

"First off, let _me_ start by telling you what I don't want." He smiled, brushing loose strands of hair out of her face. "I don't want Tara. As much as I appreciate everything she has done for my son, I closed that chapter of my life a long time ago. I thought I loved her at one time, and maybe I did. I can't really tell the difference between first love bullshit and the real thing. I _do_ know for a fact that I didn't love Wendy and I know that makes me sound like a prick, but we _both_ got something out of our time together. Wendy had someone to protect her and who genuinely cared about her well-being and I got not to be lonely anymore. That's not enough for me now, Don, so I don't want Wendy either."

"So what do you want?" She asked quietly, her blue-green eyes wide.

He reached over to take her hand in his. "I want _you_. I want a family to come home to, to care about and to fight for." He brought her hand to his lips, pressing his beautifully-formed lips against her knuckles. "Think you can handle that?"

* * *

 _Fuck_ , Gemma bit her lip. She really hated when Luann was right. Given time, Jax was going to sort shit out on his own.

It was now abundantly clear that her Jackson had been harboring feelings for his best friend's wife for quite some time. His own words, not hers. And it made her mother's heart ache for her son knowing that those feelings and Opie's untimely death must have ripped him apart.

In hindsight, all the boneheaded decisions Jax had made over the years regarding his personal life suddenly made a whole world of sense to Gemma. He had been looking for someone like Donna when he had taken up with Tara. Not at all like the feisty pixie, the doctor bitch had set the precedent for the "woman-in-peril" fetish Jax had seemingly developed overnight. Once Tara Knowles was out of the picture, he had gone through dozens—if not hundreds—of women looking for one that fit the bill only to fall into the shit with another handyman's special, Wendy Case.

Hearing from Jax's own mouth his true feelings for the doctor bitch and his ex-wife had the SAMCRO matriarch grinning from ear to ear. He could have really saved them both a lot of grief if he had only shared with her what he had been going through. Goddamn it, but she could kick herself for riding Jax so hard since the day he had hooked up with Tara. She should have known and she should have trusted her son's instincts. After all, he wouldn't have made it this far in the Club without them.

"Can _I_ handle that?" Gemma heard Donna laugh prettily. "The question is can _you_?"

Gemma had to strain to hear Jax's reply, but all she really heard was a muffled moan. She was tempting fate and was in great danger of getting busted, but Gemma had to see what was going on, even though she already had a pretty good idea. Taking what she would later realize was an incredibly stupid risk, Gemma inched her way to the doorway of the nursery. Allowing herself a quick glance, Gemma wasn't surprised to find the cozy pair lip-locked on the daybed. What did surprise her, however, was the possessive hold her son had on the young woman. With his hands gently cupping her face, he held her steady as he passionately devoured her mouth with his. Donna responded the only way a woman who was being ravaged by the intensity of Jax's kiss could: with his t-shirt balled up in her little fists resting on his chest, she held on and enjoyed the ride.

Forcing herself back up against the wall outside the nursery, Gemma had a "No shit, Sherlock" moment: _I need to get out of here_. This was what she wanted and with everything seemingly headed in the right direction, the last thing Gemma needed to do was interfere—or get caught spying. _I'm gonna have to do something that may be too much even for me: Act like I don't see shit!_

Stealthily inching her way down the hall, Gemma kept her ear glued to the muted voices until she cut through the living room and couldn't hear them anymore. Making her way to the back door, with a jaunty little spring in her step, Gemma quickly made her way to the car, doing her best to quietly pull out of the driveway.

 _Wait 'til I tell Clay!_ Gemma thought happily as she successfully maneuvered her way back home. _Won't he be surprised._

Had she stuck around a few minutes longer, Gemma probably could have guessed that the news would not sit well with her old man.

The heady euphoria Donna was feeling as a result of Jax's kiss was making it hard for her to concentrate. Finally pulling herself away from him, she took a good look at the man sitting next to her. Unlike Jax, Donna was still struggling to come to terms with her feelings for him, which had undergone a radical transformation over the last few weeks.

Donna had always loved Jax as a friend and as a part of her family. She couldn't deny, however, that she had started seeing him in a different light after they had come into contact again months after Opie's death. As her heart and mind battled it out, her body on the other hand didn't seem to have any problems acknowledging what it wanted. Once upon a time, Donna could convince herself that she had embraced having Jax in her life again because her children benefited greatly from their relationship with their uncle. But now, still trying to catch her breath after being thoroughly and completely owned by that kiss, Donna was forced to face the hard truth that she wanted Jax for herself.

There was a lot to be considered, but Donna knew that if she didn't at least explore the options of being with Jackson Teller, she would always regret it. So she decided to lay her cards on the table.

"We have a lot of history between us, Jax, and at the heart of it is Opie. And you're right. He would want me to move on and find happiness with a man once again. Although I'm not sure you would be what he had in mind," Donna tried to smile as Jax's clear blue eyes never left her face. "I'd be a liar and a coward if I said that I didn't the want the chance to find out just what it is that we have together."

With a slightly cocked eyebrow, Jax flashed her a half smile. "Why do I sense a 'but' coming on?"

"Maybe because there is one." Donna replied quietly. "I want to explore us, BUT I don't want to do it with an audience. I still have this situation with what I feel is Clay's involvement in Opie's death looming over my head. After his thinly-veiled threats, I have to believe that us being together will not be well-received by SAMCRO and I have to think about the well-being of my kids. The only one who seems to be in our corner right now is your mother, but I don't want her knowing about _this_ ," She gestured between them. "Until we figure out what _this_ is ourselves. Agreed?"

Jax felt the grip on his chest ease considerably as Donna finally met him half way. With Donna so fixated on over-thinking things, it was actually more than he had been expecting. Jax was willing to give her as much time as she needed to finally realize that what they had was real.

The outlaw biker gave her a shit-eating grin. "Agreed, darlin'."

Seeing the smirk on his face, Donna suddenly wondered what the hell she had gotten herself into. Part of her still wanted to jump back from the ledge, but she knew it was already too late. Something deep inside was telling her that, when it came to Jackson Teller, her fate had already been sealed.

* * *

Closing the front door behind him, Clay Morrow tossed his keys into the small tray that sat on the lacquered table in the foyer of his home.

It had been a long day for the outlaw biker and not a particularly pleasant one at that. His arthritic mitts had absolutely no problem in letting him know that they had not appreciated the unexpected trip to Oak-Town earlier today. Even though the outcome of that trip had resulted in more money for his Club, Clay knew that for the next few days—maybe even a week this time—his hands were going to make him pay for the 3-hour round trip ride on his bike.

Getting a call on the Gangster Hotline early that Saturday morning had made a face-to-face meet with Laroy Wayne to talk shop necessary. The Niners were at war with the Mayans—as if today were any different from any other day—and he was in the market for some new fire power. Laroy's crew was finally making progress in keeping the Latin MC out of his turf and he wanted it to keep it that way.

Clay really hadn't wanted to go, but when your biggest and financially-well off customer demanded a meet, the SAMCRO Prez had no choice but to comply. The truth was he was still recovering from his recent trip to Nevada. Although he had spared his hands a pounding by utilizing cargo vans for the gun run—his hands, not needing to travel under the Mayan's radar, had been the true reason for leaving their bikes in Charming—Clay had overindulged in his partaking of all of Jury's fine hospitality—women, weed and whiskey—and he was still paying for it.

 _Maybe I am getting too old for this shit_ , he had thought to himself when he finally woke on Friday afternoon sporting a nasty hangover and several layers of lipstick on his dick. He had spent most of the 3½-hour drive back to Charming sleeping it off in the passenger seat of the van driven by Juice.

Arriving shortly before sunset, Clay had been tempted to cancel Church, but the last thing he wanted was to appear like a weak and tired old man in front of his Club. Instead, he made short work of going through the necessary business, with Bobby updating him on the Club's current financial status, before slamming the gavel down and bringing the meeting to a close.

Having the good sense not to go straight home after Church as there was no need to advertise the good time he enjoyed in Nevada to his old lady, Clay had spent the night in his dorm, which also doubled as his office. It was only as he was getting ready to head home and his own bed the following morning that he had to divert to Oakland to meet with the leader of the One-Niners.

Had it had been up to Clay, he would have sent Jax in his place to see what the gangbanger needed, but his VP had left word that his son wasn't feeling well, so he had no choice but to handle the new business himself. Now as he entered his home, Clay was feeling every one of his 62 years. The only bright spot of his day—aside from the serious coin he had made—was the near-heavenly scent of simmering meat emanating from the kitchen.

Following his nose, Clay smiled as he spotted his wife standing in front of the stove. Wearing a pair of jeans that clung to her surprisingly tight ass like second skin, his woman was humming along to the soft rock music pouring from the speakers of the portable stereo sitting on top of a granite counter.

"Mmmm, is that meatloaf I smell?" He said coming up behind her to place his huge hands on either side of her small waist.

"And mashed potatoes with homemade gravy, some fresh string beans and a little dessert." Gemma managed to say demurely as she cast her head over her shoulder to meet her old man's kiss.

"Well shit, I know what that means." Clay sighed, backing away. "So do I even have a credit card? Or did they take it away from your ass?"

His old lady smirked at him. "I didn't do _that_ bad." She lied with a straight face. Quickly changing the subject, she asked, "So how did everything go in Indian Hills?"

"Great. We managed to get the cargo there without incident." He replied as he grabbed a beer from the fridge. "Jury's crew may be patching in a few transfers from the Las Vegas charter, so I may have to go back out there for that." Clay figured he might as well drop that shit now while his old lady seemed to be in a good mood.

Recognizing the signals in a marriage spanning 15-plus years was pretty easy. Clay wouldn't give her shit for spending too much on clothes and shoes as long as she didn't give him shit for kicking up his heels at Jury's during this trip and the next. It was a reasonable compromise.

 _Especially after he gets a good look at the credit card statement_ , Gemma thought. _After all, what happens on a run, stays on a run and a little pre-emptive revenge is good for the soul._

"Why don't you go wash up?" Gemma suggested with a slight tilt of her head and a huge smile. "Dinner will ready in about fifteen."

"Sounds good," He said aloud, but as he looked at his wife, he could see that she had a real glow to her. A little more than her normal glow after a day of spa treatments and retail therapy. "Something happen today? You seem pretty chipper."

 _Should I tell him_? Gemma paused for a moment, feeling hesitant, but not sure why.

Quickly mulling it over, she decided why the hell not. After all, with so much bad shit affecting Jax negatively as of late, the fact that he seemed to be back on the right track was a good thing. With his head finally turned away from the doctor bitch, there was definitely a cause for celebration to her way of thinking.

Putting down the wooden spoon she had been using to stir the gravy until it thickened, Gemma shut the burner off and turned to face her husband. "Well, I do have a bit of good news, but you have to promise that you won't say anything to anyone, especially Jax. I don't want any more trouble with my son."

"I thought you two worked shit out?" Clay countered.

"We did and I promised I wouldn't stick my nose in his shit and I haven't."

 _I'll believe that when I see it_ , her husband thought, but patiently waited for her to continue. "So what's going on with Jax?"

"It's not what's going on with him, _but who he's hooking up with_ ," His old lady said gleefully. "And it's not the doctor bitch!"

"Really?" Clay said with great interest. Normally, the sex lives of his brothers were of no interest to him, but lately his stepson seemed distracted and Clay knew all the pussy currently pulling at Jax had something to do with it.

"Uh huh. She's as good as history, babe." Gemma beamed victoriously.

"Well, I can't say that's not a good thing. I mean she did do right by Abel, but she just seemed wound way too tight for him. Jax's the type of man that needs a woman that will calm him down and keep him focused, not rile him up and distract him with petty bullshit." Clay noted thoughtfully. "Although, I must say, having a doctor handy to patch shit up for the Club might have been nice."

Gemma brushed that aside. "You have Chibs for that shit, baby. Tara may be a surgeon, but she's squeamish when it comes to the Life, a dangerous quality in an outsider affiliated with the Club." She noted and Clay nodded, recognizing his old lady's point as valid. "Jax is making a move on someone else."

Clay sighed heavily. "Shit, tell me it's not another fuckin' croweater. I would have thought he learned his lesson by now."

"Nope, not another skank and Wendy's as good as done for too. It's Donna." Gemma paused as she eyed her old man. Hearing a sudden hiss from one of the pots on the stove, she turned to check it out and missed the startled look on her old man's face.

 _Donna Winston_?!

"You shitting me." He responded almost too casually.

Gemma had by now turned the heat down and was facing her husband once again. "I shit you not." She smiled. "I kinda spotted them getting quite cozy in Abel's nursery."

" _Getting cozy_? What does that even mean? That don't mean shit, Gem." He answered his own question. "Donna probably heard that Abel wasn't feeling well and went to check on him, maybe give Jax a hand."

"Oh, I'm sure that right about now, Donna's giving Jax a hand alright." Gemma smirked. "They had some serious shit going on that daybed."

"And you're okay with this?" Clay asked grimly.

"Well, I'll admit that I had never even considered Donna as a viable candidate. After all, she is Ope's widow and not exactly what I'd call a team player." Gemma started. "But after thinking things over, I think she has the potential to be exactly what Jax needs in his life. Don't you think so, honey?"

Clay wasn't the type to show his hand, especially not when his old lady had done a complete about face regarding Opie's widow. The SAMCRO President had been adamant that his Queen make amends with his stepson over the shit she had stirred up about Donna Winston. With mother and son happy and tight with one another again things had settled down for Jax. He seemed more focused and less belligerent at the table which was always good for the Club. The last thing Clay had expected or wanted, however, was this particular turn of events. Clay knew he was going to need a moment to sort out just what all this meant and how he felt about it without any input from his old lady.

"I try not to worry too much about where my brothers get their pussy from, Gem. All I want is for Jax to have his head straight and focused on the Club where it needs to be. As long as Donna doesn't interfere with that, I don't see the harm in them sharing a little adult playtime together. Like I said before, she's probably the last piece in Charming left for him to tap. I say let 'em enjoy their little fling." Turning on his heel, Clay headed for their bedroom to take a much needed shower. "Hurry up with dinner, will ya. I'm starving."

Gemma watched her old man leave the kitchen with narrow eyes. _It's not a 'little fling'_ , she had wanted to say before he headed up the stairs, but something had made her pull back. _Something doesn't feel right_ , the thought occurred to her suddenly and for the first time in a long time, Gemma Teller-Morrow felt a little twinge of fear. She tried to shrug the feeling off, but it persisted.

Gemma knew to trust her instincts. After all, you don't get to be the old lady of two SAMCRO Presidents without learning a thing or two. Sure, Gemma had made her fair share of mistakes along the way, but those mistakes only helped in honing her perceptive skills to the point where she could literally smell the bullshit.

And right now, her B.S. meter was off the charts, telling her that, contrary to the appearance he had embodied, Clay was not at all happy about Jax getting involved with Donna.

Walking towards the cabinets over the sink, Gemma pulled out a couple of plates and various utensils to set the dining room table for dinner. As she laid out plates and silverware and placemats with matching napkin holders, she spoke to herself in a rational tone.

"There's no reason for you to start setting fires before there's anything to burn." She gently chastised herself. "Clay is just being Clay."

_And if you're wrong?_

"Then I'll fix it, like I always do." Gemma turned and marched back to the kitchen to pull the meatloaf out of the oven. "Because nothing is going to get in the way of my Jax's happiness."

* * *

With his cheesy grin still plastered on his handsome face, Jax jumped up from the daybed and, before she could react, swooped Donna up in his arms. Not wanting to wake Abel up, Donna bit back a squeal.

"What are you doing?" She muttered through clenched teeth as Jax carried her out of the nursery.

"Hey, I'm not a picky man, darlin', but after working up a sweat last night and spending all day in a hospital, I thought you'd appreciate if we took a quick shower," Jax advised. "Before, you know." He nudged his blond head towards his bedroom at the end of the hall.

Donna's bright eyes widened as she felt a blush stain her cheeks. "How very presumptuous of you, Jackson. I was actually going to ask you to call me a cab—"

"What?!" Jax exclaimed with mock indignation as he dropped her onto her feet in the bathroom. "I'm sorry I have to break it to ya, darlin', but unless you're supposed to pick the kids up tonight, you're not going anywhere but straight to my bed. With a slight detour into the shower first, of course, but only 'cause you broads are a bit particular about funky ass men."

Seeing his eyes shine mischievously, Donna couldn't help but giggle as Jax made a grab for her tank top. "Hey!" She slapped his hand away playfully. "I was only half-serious about the cab, Jax. You're gonna have to let me play hard to get at least once in a while, you know."

"You can play hard to get all you want, Don." Jax smirked as he pulled off his own shirt. "It's the 'easy-to-catch' part you need to work on." Laughing at the shocked look on her face, Jax pulled her into his arms and was about to leave her breathless again with his kiss when his prepay rang.

Groaning, Jax pulled away as he reached into the pocket of his jeans. "I bet it's Gemma." Donna grumbled under her breath, a smirk playing on her lips.

"I'll take that bet." Jax smiled as he pulled out his phone. "I've been MIA from the Club since last night. Someone's prolly calling to make sure I'm still alive." He flipped open the burner and rolled his eyes. "Shit!"

"Oh Gawd, I know that woman just a little too well for my own good." She shook her head. "But I won the bet!"

"You can collect in the shower or wait 'til we're in the bedroom," Jax offered with a lecherous wiggle of his eyebrows. "But first let me see what she wants."

The outlaw knew he should be used to his mother sliding up on him at the most inopportune moments, but Jax had to admit he had been a little concerned about not being able to reach her all day to tell her about Abel.

Answering the call, Jax put the prepay to his ear. "Jesus, Ma, I was starting to get a little worried about you. I left a shitload of messages on your cell."

" _Hey, baby," Gemma said, a note of concern in her voice. "I called as soon as I heard. How's my grandson?"_

"He's doing fine." Jax replied as he looked over at Donna, who was busy NOT getting undressed. "I probably overreacted a bit. The Doc says little man is teething. Nothing to worry about, but where the fuck were you?"

" _I know, I know. I must be getting senile. Left my prepay charging at home by mistake. I planned on checking in with Neeta around noon, but Neiman Marcus sprung one of those two-hour sales on me. I got busy trying to fight the bitches off with a stick while trying to snag a pair of half-priced Jimmy Choos. Now I feel horrible. If I hadn't checked in with Neeta I probably still wouldn't know about Abel. I can't believe I didn't know my grandbaby was sick." She sighed. "Are you okay, baby?"_

"I kind of lost my shit a little, but I managed to pull it together." Thinking to test both his mother and Donna out, Jax smiled and winked at the petite woman before dropping the dime on her. "I'm just glad Donna was there to help me out."

Jax nearly bust a gut as Donna barely contained herself from lashing out at him with her little fists. "Asshole!" She growled loud enough for only him to hear.

_Gemma smiled to herself. The little shithead's testing me for a reaction. "Well, I guess I'll need to thank her for stepping in the next time I see her. Neeta filled me in, said Donna was a real help to you today."_

"Yeah, she sure was." Jax said and Gemma could hear the smile in his voice. "I know what the fuck I'm doing on a bike, but even after six months, shit's still taking me by surprise when it comes to little man."

" _I've got news for you, Jackson: that won't ever change, even after he's all grown up." Gemma replied sagely. And don't I know that shit from experience! "After everything Abel's been through, it's only natural to feel insecure as a parent. It's always best to overcompensate because, as they say, it's better to be safe than sorry and all that shit." She replied. "But you're sure everything's all right?"_

"He's fine, Ma. Don't worry, a'ight?"

" _Maybe I should stop by tonight, just to see him for myself." Gemma suggested impishly. She smothered a laugh behind her hand at her son's quick reaction._

"Uh, nah, Ma. Really, you don't need to do that." Jax blurted. "Besides, he's fast asleep now. It's getting late and don't you need to get Clay's dinner ready or something?"

_Gemma cocked her head as she momentarily pulled the phone away from her ear to roll her eyes. "You can rest assured, Jax. I have done my wifely duty by your President. He's stuffed like a turkey and snoozing on the couch. I'd just hate for you to be over there by yourself without something to eat." She pressed lightly._

"Don't worry, Ma. We got it covered. Anyway, I gotta go." Jax said hurriedly. "I'll talk to you tomorrow."

" _Okay, honey." Gemma replied sweetly._

Hanging up the phone, the SAMCRO matriarch realized that she didn't have to worry about anything after all.

_Especially since 'we' got it covered!_


	13. Loose Ends

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy.**

**A/N: The Final Chapter.**

* * *

_It's a great thing when shit feels like it's finally coming together_ , Jackson Teller thought as he wiped his hands on an oily rag _._

The sun was shining brightly on the lot as Jax went about doing a hard day of honest and productive labor. In spite of the fact that it was the middle of the week, usually a slow business day for Teller-Morrow, the garage was a flurry of activity. Jax was in a particularly good mood, which had not gone unnoticed by Chibs, who treated him to some good-natured ribbing as they worked alongside each other in one of the bays.

"Ya seem to be in a pretty good mood dere, Jackie Boy." Chibs said as he leaned against the open hood of the car that Jax was working on.

"That I am," Jax replied grinning.

It had been several days since the weekend and Jax was feeling really good about the turn his life had taken. With issues between him and Donna finally coming to a head—even dealing with his son's unexpected and brief illness together—Jax was feeling like things were finally starting to change for him for the better. It was becoming clear to Jax that as his personal life continued to de-clutter itself, he would be able to get a better handle on how to deal with the problems that were brewing within the Club. Now that Piney had sobered up and returned to the Clubhouse while he had been visiting the Indian Hills charter, with the old man's support and his father's manuscript to guide him, Jax felt on track to recreating his place within the MC.

Chibs cocked his head at the younger man. It was clear to him that Jax seemed more relaxed and upbeat since their return from Indian Hills. For quite some time, Chibs had been genuinely concerned for his young brother. The death of Opie Winston had hit the Club hard, but the worst of it had landed on Jax. Losing his best friend since childhood, his wingman in all things, had many at the table wondering if Jax would ever make a comeback or if he would simply fade away. Over the last couple of weeks, however, Chibs had started seeing a change in the young VP for the better. Although unsure as to what had caused the about-face, Chibs was glad to finally see it come about. Any lingering doubts the Club may have had concerning Jax's focus were put to rest during SAMCRO's most recent run to their newest charter in Nevada.

Although not a blood relative, Uncle Jury—as he was affectionately called by Jax—had genuine affection and love for the son of John Teller, the man who had saved his life at Tay Ninh in 1967. As a result, long before the Devil's Tribe had been patched over by the Sons of Anarchy, Jury had always made it a habit of opening up his fine stable of women, the quality of which was unsurpassed, to JT's son whenever he stopped by the Tribe's Clubhouse for a visit.

Now that the Tribe had been patched over, that longstanding friendship between Jury and Jax quickly morphed into a strong bond of brotherhood, which naturally extended to his new brothers from the mother charter as well. Needless to say, Chibs and Juice had been as giddy as young girls on prom night when they got the nod from Clay to join him, Tig and Jax on their run to the new SOA charter.

Considering the recent tension between the Sons and the Mayans, Clay had decided that it might be best to make the journey to Indian Hills under the radar. Instead of riding, they made the trip in two cargo vans and without their kuttes until they arrived at the new clubhouse. With Clay, Tig and Juice in one van and Chibs and Jax in the other, they had made good time to Indian Hills with their cargo of AKs and MAC-10s.

Arriving at the seemingly abandoned strip club several miles off US-395 N designated by Jury for the meet, SAMCRO had been treated to a warm reception, a far cry from the one they had received during their last visit. Several months had passed since the patch over—or what former members of the Tribe had referred to as a "hostile takeover" before turning in their kuttes. Even though the MC he had founded thirty years before had ceased being outlaw some time ago, Jury had reconciled himself with his new set of circumstances.

When he had called upon the Sons for help in dealing with the Mayans' strong-arm tactics in trying to squeeze a vig out of the Tribe, the last thing Jury had expected was that the price for their protection would include accepting the Sons' club colors. He had lost about half his members, all good and loyal men, who knew they weren't cut out for the outlaw game. Aging bookies and bouncers Clay had called those that had fallen by the wayside. Times were changing fast, the SAMCRO Prez had said, and this was a change the Tribe had to embrace or run the risk of losing their book and pussy trade to the wetbacks.

After their agreement with the Mayans to sell them guns fell through, so did the uneasy truce with the Sons' Indian Hills charter. With this visit, the mother charter was supplying Jury with the weapons necessary to protect their interests in Indian Hills. The meeting site was off the grid and the perfect location for testing out their newest hardware. Afterwards, both charters headed to the Clubhouse for Church where they discussed the new charter's ongoing problems with the Mayans.

Jury reasoned that he could use his connections with the Sheriff, who was quite fond of the girls in his stable, to inhibit the Mayans' Reno charter from conducting business wherever possible in his district. With prodding, Jax was able to convince Clay to ask for several members from the overflowing Las Vegas charter to make the jump to Indian Hills as a more permanent solution to Jury's problems. Chibs realized that Jax's recommendation would be a smart move for any young patch feeling lost in SOA's third largest charter. Not only would they get a piece of action, but they would also get access to Jury's prime stock, in Chibs' mind a valuable consideration. With 42 being the average age of the Indian Hills charter, they would benefit greatly from a healthy infusion of young blood.

After Church business was concluded, everyone had spilled out into the main area of the Clubhouse. With its large bar and seating areas, it also served as one of the charter's brothels where a large and varied group of Jury's beauties waited to entertain everyone.

Everyone, that is, _except_ for Jax.

Chibs had secured two lovelies for himself—one of whom was dancing on top of a low table in front of him for his enjoyment, while the other sat quite comfortably on his lap and served him double shots of Jameson without Chibs even having to ask. Curious to see just how many of the girls were cat fighting in order to get their hands on the blond patch, Chibs was surprised to see that his VP was not surrounded by sweetbutts, hookers or strippers. Instead, he was in deep conversation with Jury at the bar.

Thinking that the young man would eventually abandon the company of the older man and seek comfort in some pussy, Chibs later heard through Juice—who was, true to his calling as the Club's Intelligence Officer, a gossipy old woman at heart—that Jax had abstained from enjoying Jury's girls. Seeing even Clay himself retreating to one of the brothel's bedrooms with a petite brunette sweetbutt, Jax's all-business demeanor came as somewhat of a surprise to the Scot.

With Jax's fondness for the fairer sex being quite legendary, the fact that he had chosen to forego all the pussy that was up for grabs was a HUGE sign for Chibs that something had radically changed for the young man. Upon their return to Charming, other signs included Jax bypassing the Friday night bacchanalia, leaving the Clubhouse in a heated rush and disappearing for the rest of the weekend. It was true Chibs had heard that Jax's MIA status was due mostly to a sick wee one, but still, almost a whole week with no pussy was completely out of character for Jax Teller.

Either something was very wrong or, judging by his lighthearted, almost happy, mood, something was very right.

 _Only one thing puts dat much pep in a man's step_ , Chibs reasoned. _It's definitely a lass, but who?_

Chibs was about to put his theory to the test, when he looked up to see a taxi pull into the lot. With his eyes widening, he nodded towards the vehicle, catching Jax's eye.

"It looks like ya have a visitor, Jackie." His brogue was a little gruff as he eyed the blond-haired women getting out of the car before paying the driver. "I dinna know she was still around."

 _Shyte! Is it possible that Jax would take up wit_ _her_ _again_?

Jax looked over his shoulder, a near-scowl wiping the good humor off his face as he watched Wendy Teller slowly make her way towards them.

_Fuck!_

Quickly taking note of the pissy look on his brother's face, Chibs concluded that he was—thankfully—on the wrong track.

 _I dinna know wha has put da light back in Jackie Boy's eyes, but I guarantee dat it's not his ol' lady_.

* * *

Tossing the dirty rag in his hands onto the workbench beside him, Jax turned without another word to his brother and walked towards the woman he had married almost four years ago.

Wendy was looking particularly well, wearing a pair of skin tight dark wash jeans, a form-fitting peasant-style blouse with long sleeves, and knee-high stiletto boots. Jax's discerning eye when it came to the female form was quick to pick up that Wendy had finally returned to her pre-pregnancy weight. She looked good, he noted, her face full and healthy, and her eyes clear and calm. Wendy had moved into the sober living house at Lincoln Village, the best possible step on her part for everyone involved, and it had been a few weeks since he had last laid eyes on her.

In her absence, Jax had done a lot of reflecting on their relationship and by no stretch of the imagination could what they had ever be defined as a happy marriage. As Gemma was so fond of pointing out, they never stood a chance, especially with Jax's need to take his dick on a dip in every available Club woman coupled with Wendy's need to remain high in order not to care. But even though Jax would be the first to admit that he had been a shitty husband, he was tired of feeling responsible for Wendy's addiction, something she had struggled with for years prior to coming to Charming.

Now, with his son almost paying the ultimate price for his parents' self-absorption, Jax was too busy being the father Abel deserved to exhaust himself even further in order to keep Wendy sober, only to fail miserably. He was finally ready to accept that only one person was responsible for Wendy's addiction as well as her sobriety and that was Wendy herself. Jax was more than ready to move on from their dead relationship and maybe that was what Wendy needed to do as well in order for this round of rehab to succeed.

Even with Wendy clean and sober, their relationship was toxic and Jax needed to make her realize this without sending her on the road to relapse. She was still his son's mother and one day Jax would have to explain to Abel why his father had turned his back on his birth mother. No matter the outcome, Jax wanted to be able to do that with a clear conscience, knowing that he had done all he could for the woman that had nearly killed his son. Ultimately, only Wendy was responsible for her own destiny.

As if the universe were in complete agreement with him, two days ago Jax had received a phone call from his attorney, who was happy to report that the judge was set to sign the order granting the Tellers their divorce petition by the end of the week. Considering his conversation with Donna over the weekend, Jax had been tempted to give her a call in order to share the good news. Seeing Wendy hesitantly making her way to him, Jax was glad he hadn't in case she was here to complicate things further by stalling the divorce and pleading her case for a reconciliation.

Had Jax known that wasn't to be the case, his reception of his former old lady might have been less frigid.

Wendy came to an abrupt stop in front of him, her smile tentative as she noted the face of the implacable man who had once been her husband standing in front of her.

 _Shit,_ Wendy thought. _This is gonna be a lot harder than I thought._

"Hi," She started quietly.

"Hey," Jax responded as he crossed his arms over his chest. "This is an unexpected surprise. What are you doing here?"

Not in the least surprised by his surliness, Wendy continued apologetically. "You look busy. I probably should have called first."

"That would have been a good idea."

Wendy moistened her lips. "I know never is probably a good time for us to talk, but can I have a minute with you?" She asked cautiously. "In private?"

Thinking he knew where this was going, talking to Wendy privately was the last thing he wanted to do. His love of women didn't translate well into dealing with a hysterical one, but dealing with one in full view of his mother was high on his list of things he wouldn't do if his life depended on it.

With numerous repos to coordinate along with receipts to be balanced against invoices and payroll for this week to be dealt with, Gemma had been holed up in T-M's office all morning. Other than waving at each other once through the window facing one of the bays, Jax hadn't spoken to her at all. For now, that was a good thing considering he had no idea how to deal with his mother after her most recent interference in his love life. After all, her confrontation with Donna had yielded him an unexpected benefit and for once Jax was actually grateful that Gemma had meddled in shit that wasn't any of her concern.

Still, Gemma deserved a good rap on the knuckles for sticking her nose in his shit, but with Donna insisting they keep their relationship under wraps, he wasn't sure how to do that without revealing too much. Finding Wendy on the lot now would only guarantee Gemma coming at him full throttle.

"Okay," Jax agreed quietly and, taking Wendy by the arm, quickly marched her across the lot and into the Clubhouse.

* * *

Sitting on the edge of Jax's bed, Wendy let her eyes wander around the all-too-familiar dorm as one hand traced the outline of the crow on her forearm covered by the flowing sleeve of her blouse. She remembered the night she had been tatted and how proud she had felt to finally be considered Jax's old lady. Despite the ugliness that came to define their relationship later on, for a while things had been good between them. Being the SAMCRO VP's old lady had meant more than just an elevation in status inside the Clubhouse for Wendy. Although it was unlikely that Jax would believe her if she told him now, the fact was that Wendy had loved him very much. Or at the very least, as much as he would let her. Truth was, Jax made loving him hard as he seemed hell bent on making her hate him with every whore he bedded right under her nose.

Little did Wendy know that Jax had been unknowingly challenging her to stand up to him and not take his shit. Deep down what he had wanted was someone willing to fight for him. Unfortunately, as much as she had loved Jax, Wendy had loved crank just a little bit more and had taken the easy way out of their one-sided relationship by relapsing yet again.

But Wendy had not made the trip down to the T-M lot to reminisce about a part of her life that was now behind her. For her sake and Abel's as well, it was time for her to move on, but not before she tried to salvage what she could of her relationship with her son's father.

"How's Abel? Is he doing okay?" Wendy asked tentatively.

Jax nodded. "He's teething, but otherwise he's been doing good." He answered, not bothering to mention Abel's recent visit to St. Thomas.

Wendy smiled slightly, genuinely pleased to hear that her son was doing well.

 _No thanks to me_ , the self-hating part of her chastised.

Wendy closed her eyes and took a deep breath, desperate to silence the nagging, woe-is-me voice she heard in her head every time she thought of or mentioned Abel. A lifetime of feeling sorry for herself had made her weak and selfish. It had set the course for the predicament she currently found herself in. If Wendy wanted to stay the course and make it through this conversation with Jax having said all she had come to say, then she couldn't allow herself the luxury of wallowing in self-pity.

Wendy looked up as Jax stood looming over her like some dark and foreboding angel. "I know it's been a while since we talked, but could you please sit down? It would make it a lot easier for me to say what I have to say without you towering over me."

Jax shrugged his powerful shoulders under his T-M work shirt and grabbed a chair from the corner of his room. Turning it around so that he could straddle it, Jax rested his folded arms across the back of the chair.

"This better?" He asked, now eye-level with Wendy.

Wendy sighed with relief. "Much. Thanks."

"So what is it you want to talk about?" Jax asked. His tone wasn't harsh, but neither did it clue Wendy into how he was feeling. Although not unusual between them, it certainly didn't make what she needed to say any easier for her.

"I want to talk about us." Wendy started.

Jax rubbed the bridge of his nose. _Shit, this is exactly what I_ _don't_ _want to do._

But after what had happened during the weekend and the promises he had made to a somewhat-reluctant-to-believe-him Donna, Jax realized that this was exactly the conversation he should be having with Wendy. He couldn't go on letting her believe that they could one day reconcile and become a family. What they had, if anything, had died long before Abel had been born.

"Wendy, there is no _us_." Jax said firmly. He had mentally braced himself to deal with her tears, but he was not at all prepared for her response.

"I know." She said simply and nodded.

At first, Jax thought he hadn't heard correctly. Knowing that he had, he then thought he was being set up for a big "but". But noting the solemn and resigned look on her face, Jax realized Wendy was serious.

"You know?" He asked tentatively. Jax needed Wendy to clarify before he ran the fuck out of his dorm and broke open a bottle of Johnnie Walker Black Blue Label to celebrate his freedom. "You know _what_ , exactly?"

Wendy felt the tension ease from her shoulders. Finally acknowledging the truth about their relationship out loud to the man who needed to hear it the most was a great relief. Seeing the barely-suppressed joy sparkle in his bright blue eyes stung a bit, but Wendy knew deep down that it was all for the best.

"It's taken me five long years, Jax," Wendy replied, her voice a notch above a whisper, but strong with determination. "But I know that it's not going to work out between us. I mean, maybe it's something I've always known—I know you have—but now _I know_ that it's something I'm capable of accepting. Does that make any sense?"

For a moment, Jax was literally tempted to let himself fall out of his chair in shock. He felt an immeasurable sense of relief course through his body, but did his best to restrain himself from heaving a hearty sigh of relief. Although part of him wanted to kick up his heels, the other part of him counseled that he not treat Wendy cruelly. This was obviously a big step for her and he was genuinely happy to see her sober and finally on the right track with her life. However, Jax couldn't help but wonder what impact this sudden epiphany would have on him and their son.

Into the suddenly uneasy silence, Wendy spoke up. "I guess you didn't see that coming, huh?" She said with a little chuckle, her hands folded in her lap.

Jax shook his head. "No, I didn't." He admitted. "And it does makes perfect sense, by the way, but I'd like to know what changed your mind, if you don't mind me asking?"

Wendy ran a hand through her long blond hair. "I know you've heard it before, Jax," She rolled her eyes with a self-deprecating smile. "But this time, rehab changed something in me. _Seeing_ what I did to Abel changed something in me. I'm ashamed of myself for letting it get to that point, but that was the wake up call I needed. I used up the last of my nine lives with what I did to our son and _I know_ that this is my last chance." She said candidly. "As much as I wanted to believe when _people_ promised that, with their support, you and I could work things out and be a family for Abel, I knew in my heart that if I latched onto that, my next relapse would kill me."

"When you say _people_ , I take it you mean _my mother_?" Jax asked wryly.

Wendy nodded absently, but with her eyes suddenly widening to twice their normal size, she vehemently shook her head. "Shit, Jax. You have to promise me that you won't jump on her ass about this." She practically begged. "It's bad enough Gemma will probably want to track me down in Seattle and kill me for 'abandoning' my family."

Jax raised an eyebrow, his mind honing in on one word out of the many hurled in his direction. "Seattle?"

"It was my sober living counselor's idea," Wendy replied with a shrug of her shoulders. "The old crone has been pushing me for weeks to make a fresh start so I can concentrate on fixing what's broken. For a while, I thought that meant fixing _us_ , but I know that's not possible without forgiveness and I know that you can't ever forgive me for what I've done and I don't blame you for that." Wendy looked up at Jax with moist eyes. "It's something of a relief, actually, because right now God knows I'm in no way ready to be a mother to Abel. I'm such a dismal failure as a mother that I even failed to bond with my own baby. It's almost like he knows that I almost killed him before he was born and that even now he's probably not safe with me." Several fat tears ran down her cheeks. "I hope that will change one day. That I'll be able to have some sort of relationship with my son. Maybe even, sometime down that road, you and I can salvage what's left of our relationship to the point where we can at least be friends for Abel's sake, but I know that time's not now."

"No," Jax agreed. "It's not."

He looked at the woman sitting across from him and for the first time he could really see that there was indeed more than just a physical difference in her. There was a new core strength within Wendy not present after her last two rounds of rehab. Obviously, the damage that she had inflicted on their son had made a far greater impact on her than he or anyone could ever believe possible.

"I really think this is the right move for you, Wendy." Jax reached out and placed a hand on her knee. "Take this time to figure out what it is that you need out of life to make you happy. Let finding yourself be your priority right now and let me raising our son be mine."

Wendy placed her hand on top of his and gave it a gentle squeeze. "It took me a minute to come to grips with that, but away from Charming is where I need to be." She conceded. "I'll be leaving in a couple of weeks. I've already been set up with another sober living home in Seattle and now I'm looking into taking some college courses, hopefully figure out what I'm good for. It's scary, but I really feel like I can do it this time." Wendy sighed. "All that's really holding me back is the fact that I'm going to miss out on so much of Abel's life." She whispered sadly.

"Abel will always be here and one day he's gonna learn about his birth mother. I can't make any promises as to how that's gonna work out, but stay clean and I won't deny you getting to know him when you're _both_ ready." Jax promised.

"Thank you, Jax. I know that's probably more than I deserve." Wendy replied sincerely. "It tugs at my heart knowing that Abel will grow up calling someone else 'Mommy', but I'm sure Tara will make him a good mother—" She said quietly, but trailed off as Jax's head literally snapped to attention.

"What the fuck did you just say?" He blurted, with no small amount of incredulity.

"Uh, I—I—" Wendy stammered. "I'm sorry, I just meant that once you're together—"

Jax held up his hand which was currently clenched into a fist, his SONS rings standing out in stark relief against his skin. "Okay, where the fuck did you get the idea that option was even on the table?" He demanded, his blue eyes literally boring holes into the wide-eyed woman.

"Look," She replied anxiously. "There's no need to go ape shit, Jax, alright? I mean, I pretty much had it figured out the day of Abel's Welcome Home party. The meth may have done a number on my brain, but it's not completely fried."

Jax rubbed his chin and grimaced as he recalled the scene in particular he was sure Wendy was alluding to. The little spit-swapping moment with the Doc that he had quickly put the brakes on and that had earned him a resounding slap for his trouble. He could almost laugh about it now, especially since this was the second time it's been thrown in his face in the last week.

"Look, Wendy, I know that when it comes to being faithful to you my track record speaks for itself, but I'm not shitting you when I say that was _not_ what it looked like."

"Really?" Wendy cocked her head at him. "Because from where I was standing, it looked like you and your ex-girlfriend were back together."

"Well, we're not." Jax insisted adamantly.

"Then someone needs to tell Tara because a little over a week ago, I finally got up enough nerve to approach the good doc about what happened at Abel's party. She was pretty unapologetic about having shoved her tongue down your throat in what was then still _our house_. _And_ she made it quite clear that there was something going on between you that she wasn't 'comfortable talking about' with me." Wendy said archly. "Tara _suggested_ that I continue rehab and after, if you and I were truly meant to be, it would happen, but it was obvious from her tone that she herself didn't buy what she was selling."

Wendy sat and watched with an inward smirk as Jax took in her words. Jax never had a problem being candid with her before, especially when it came to his extracurricular activities down at the Clubhouse, so it was clear that his surprise was genuine. Judging by the expression on his face, it was obvious that the outlaw biker didn't have similar hopes of rekindling an old flame that his former girlfriend did.

Wendy gave a little sigh of relief. Although it seemed like Jax's life was about to get just a little more complicated, at least she wouldn't have to worry about her son ever calling the back-stabbing, snooty doctor "Mommy." After all, the thought that Tara could see herself fitting into Jax's world after all this time was laughable.

 _Maybe one day Jax will find the perfect fit for his crazy biker life_ , Wendy thought, wishing her soon-to-be ex-husband no ill will, but somehow she didn't see that happening.

* * *

Sitting on the couch in the semi-darkened living room with her arms wrapped around her knees, Donna looked at her watch for the third time in as many minutes.

 _Where the hell is my man_? She thought heatedly and then giggled out loud. _My man. Maybe that's pushing it a bit._

After all, it was the infamous lady-killer Jackson Teller Donna was so possessively labeling as hers. She knew for a fact that there were a whole hell of a lot of women who, at one time or another, thought they could make that claim on Jax. And all of them, she was sure, had ended up in Jax's rearview.

_What makes me any different?_

"The fact that he good as said so himself." Donna said in defense of her sexy biker.

She was trying really hard to believe in his sincerity, but when she compared herself to the women she knew Jax had been with, Donna found herself sorely lacking. Her logical mind kept warning her that she was delusional and setting herself up for even more heartache. Her heart, however, advised her to believe in the reality of Jax's affection for her, feelings he claimed he's had for her going as far back to their days as teenagers.

Even then, the constant war between her mind and heart did not distract Donna from constantly daydreaming about the outlaw over the course of the past five days. As a matter of fact, the handsome biker had been on a campaign to ensure that he was never far from her thoughts, proving himself a real disruption to her work day at Oswald Construction. When Donna wasn't thinking inappropriate thoughts about him all on her own—inappropriate at least for the workplace—Jax would call or send her naughty text messages, forcing those thoughts into her mind at the most inopportune moments.

Jax had her feeling like a giddy teenager all over again, especially since Donna had been working overtime to keep her mother from cluing in to her budding romance with the town bad boy. Unfortunately, Donna hadn't become any better at hiding shit from her mother since her teenage years and was starting to fear that her mother was onto the fact that she was involved with someone.

After spending two glorious nights with Jax, one at her home and the other with him and Abel, Donna had to force herself off of Cloud Nine and back into reality as Sunday morning moved too quickly and became Sunday afternoon. The two lovers had spent another wonderfully intense and exhausting night together. Donna had made do with what Jax had in his half-empty refrigerator and managed to make an impromptu breakfast-in-bed of eggs, toast and coffee. They then spent the rest of the morning and most of the afternoon talking and playing with Abel.

_And playing with each other._

It was almost 3:30 before Donna realized that she needed to snap out of it and get a move on. She had told her mother that she would pick the kids up around 5:00 that evening. Donna reveled in the fact that Jax had not wanted to let her go. After trying every trick in his book of sexy distractions, Jax finally realized that he had no choice but to let her go and face the dreaded "Iron Lady". He wanted to take her home himself, but Donna insisted on calling a cab instead.

Dashing into her house, Donna spent the next hour tidying up and getting rid of all traces of the sexfest she had hosted on Friday night in practically every room. Too busy putting the living room, kitchen, master bedroom and bathroom back in order, time got away from her, leaving her none to prepare a quick meal for her children before picking them up. Instead, she grabbed her bag, slammed the front door shut behind her and quickly made her way over to her mother's home.

Located on the west side of town, it had taken Donna twenty minutes of weaving in and out of Charming's downtown traffic and made it with only a couple of minutes to spare. Her mother did not tolerate tardiness and Donna didn't want to give her a reason to start asking questions.

Hoping that by some miracle she had managed to miss seeing her brother, who had a two-hour trek back to Big Sur, Donna cursed under her breath as she pulled up in front of her parents' house.

"Shit," She mumbled, more than a little peeved as she parked behind her brother's brand new Range Rover.

Getting out of her car, Donna made her way up the brick path and opened the screen door which was generally kept open at all times. It irked Donna that as much as her parents complained about the band of outlaw bikers their son-in-law had belonged to, they refused to acknowledge the fact that it was those same outlaws that kept the town peaceful and safe, making it possible to leave their doors unlocked.

As Donna made her way through the living room towards the kitchen that ran the length of the back of the house, she could hear the sound of children laughing and talking.

"Hey, honey," Bob said jovially as Donna entered the room. Her father, a balding man pushing his late 50s, had the large and oversized bulky frame which was almost a requirement for his job as foreman of one of Oswald's teams of lumberjacks. He was in stark contrast to his wife, a small petite woman whom Donna had taken after.

"Hi, Daddy," Donna said quietly, hoping to go unnoticed for the moment, but her daughter promptly threw her under the bus.

"Mommy!" Ellie said excitedly as she ran into the kitchen through the sliding glass doors that led into the backyard and gave her mother a hard hug.

"Hey, baby," Donna smiled down at her flushed face. Before she could ask how she was, her son was there to greet her as well, wrapping his arms around her waist.

"Well, looks who's here," Her brother announced, as he walked into the kitchen followed by his three children and his mother.

"Hey, kids," Donna ignored the slightly irritable tone of her brother and quickly hugged her nieces and nephew. Pretending her mother and Danny weren't even in the room, Donna reached out and gave Alexa's blond ponytail a playful tug. "Did you guys have a great time hanging out?"

"The best, Aunt D!" The young girl chirped happily. "But we really missed you and now we're getting ready to go home." Alexa pouted.

Donna winced, feeling a twinge of guilt. It had been a while since she had seen her brother's children and did feel a measure of regret that she had missed out on spending time with them. But on the flip side, had she stuck around she would have been subjected to the company of her mother and her brother, the emotionally-draining tag team champions of the century.

 _And_ she would have missed out on some pretty intense and mind-blowing lovemaking with Jax and every heartfelt conversation they had managed to have. Nope, Donna couldn't say she regretted how she had spent her weekend in the least.

' _Sides, there's always Christmas._

"I know, sweetheart," Donna replied. "But I'm so glad you kids had the _whole_ weekend to spend together. I'm sure they'll be other visits down the road real soon, okay?" She dropped a kiss on top of Alexa's head.

"Whatever it was you were up to this weekend," Helen Lerner started disdainfully. "I think spending time with your family would have been more important."

Still pressed up against his mother's side, Donna felt her son sigh. Looking down at Kenny and seeing him roll his dark green eyes, she was hard pressed not to laugh out loud. At that moment, Kenny reminded her so much of Opie, who also had a painfully low tolerance level when it came to dealing with his mother-in-law and could only stomach her in small doses. It was clear that Kenny had reached his limit.

"Well, in spite of what you may think, _mother_ ," Donna replied casually. "I had a lot to take care of this weekend and it was a good time to get it done with the kids staying here."

"You must have been very busy, Mommy," Ellie noted with a wrinkled brow. "You're still wearing the same clothes from Friday."

Donna inwardly groaned. In her rush, she had forgotten to change before heading over to pick up the kids. It wasn't like she was still wearing the same exact sex-funky and dirty clothes all weekend. After all, she had used Jax's machine to wash them—and had spent a considerable amount of time on top of the rumbling washer with her outlaw lover during the spin cycle. But it was little shit like that that could expose her relationship with Jax to her family before she was ready.

Locking eyes with Helen, it was obvious that her mother's devious mind was already putting what little clues she thought she had together. Even with nothing else to go on, she was eyeing her daughter with grave suspicion.

_Shit! It's time to run for the hills before Mom gets the chance to start her favorite game of twenty questions!_

"I would love to stay," Donna lied easily. "But these two have school tomorrow. They have homework and reading to catch up on and I have laundry to do for the week."

"Oh, so laundry wasn't one of the many things you had to do this weekend?" Helen asked with an arched brow. One question down, nineteen more to go.

 _Fuck! Get! Out! Now!_ Donna screamed at herself.

Ignoring her mother's pointed query, Donna quickly kissed her father and nieces and nephew and nudged her kids into saying goodbye as she grabbed their duffel bags. Like a tiny tornado, Donna came and went, briskly navigating Ellie and Kenny outside. With a little sigh of relief, Donna managed to get her kids into the back seat of the sedan without further incident.

Or so she thought.

She should have known that she wasn't going to get away so easily.

"So you're not even going to acknowledge me?" A surly voice said over her shoulder as she slammed the passenger side door closed. Turning around, Donna faced her older brother, his face stony and dark with anger.

"I wasn't planning to," Donna replied ironically. "But since you're forcing my hand: Hello, Danny. It was nice seeing you. Have a safe trip home. Goodbye."

"Really, Donny? That's all you have to say to me, your brother?" He asked incredulously. "We haven't spoken in nearly seven months."

Donna let out a frustrated sigh. Grabbing her burly brother by the arm, she led him halfway up their parents' driveway, out of earshot of her car. "Have you completely forgotten what you said to me on the day I buried my husband?"

Danny ran a frustrated hand through his thick head of dark brown hair peppered with gray. "Is that what this is about?" He sounded surprised, which pissed Donna off even further.

Donna shook her head in disbelief. He may have been built like their father back in his younger days when Bob Lerner had been fit and a wall of solid muscle, but Danny was their mother's son through and through. So judgmental and never willing to admit when they were wrong, even if they hurt someone they claimed to love.

"I know you never cared for Opie, Danny but I never thought you'd wish him dead." She accused him bitterly.

"That's not what I said, Donna—" He tried to argue, but Donna stopped him.

"I'm sorry. You said he was _better off dead_. My bad." She corrected herself sarcastically. "Shit like that I expect from Mom, but coming from you, it hurt like hell, especially since you know first-hand what it's like to lose someone you love."

Kate, Danny's wife of 15 years, had died of breast cancer more than three years ago. Donna had genuinely loved the free-spirited woman that always managed to bring the best out of her stuffed-shirt brother, actually making him lovable again.

Danny sighed. "Look, Donny, we're family and I love you. I always wanted the best for my little sis, so what can you expect me to say about the man who fractured this family? You deserved better—"

Donna threw her hands up, motioning for her brother to stop. "You need to stop right there, Danny. Whatever you _thought_ you knew about my husband, the fact is that Opie loved me. He loved his children and he did the best that he could by us. He was a good man who is NOT better off dead. Those of us who love him miss him like hell and the last thing we want to hear is that we're better off without him." She ground out, dangerously close to tears. "So no, I wasn't interested in saying jack shit to you for the last seven months and if you can't understand why, then maybe you need another seven months to think that shit over."

With that, and with her brother calling after her, Donna turned around, got into her car and drove away.

Afterwards Donna had wondered if she had been too hard on him or not hard enough. Needless to say, her mother had made it quite clear how she felt about the matter, blaming Donna for the current rift in the family. As usual, Donna had no shits to give when it came to what her mother thought one way or another. Realizing this, Helen quickly segued into questioning Donna about her weekend activities, including her wardrobe malfunction the day before. Donna made quick work of brushing the woman off and ushering her out of her home. But after closing the door behind her, it became clear to the young widow that trying to develop a relationship with Jax under her mother's nose was going to be a lot harder than she had anticipated.

_And speaking of Jax, where the fuck is he?_

They had been in contact every single day since Sunday, with Jax finally wearing her down enough to get Donna to agree to a little late night visit after the Friday night party when the kids would be asleep. He had jumped the gun and had already made arrangements with Neeta to stay the night with Abel.

Even now, Donna could recall the conversation they'd had, down to the goosebumps Jax had caused as she thought about his lips pressed to her ear.

" _Come on, Don," Jax growled sexily over the phone. "It's not like Kenny and Ellie don't sleep through the night like Abel. They won't hear a thing, I promise."_

"I don't think that's a promise you can make," Donna whispered surreptitiously into her cell phone. She had been at work when she had gotten the call. "You know I'm a screamer."

" _Don't I know it, darlin' and I sure do love making you scream."_

It was the "darlin'" that finally got to her and before Donna could snatch the words back, she agreed. She had gone so far as to make a special trip to the mall in Stockton to pick up some new lingerie. But even as she stood at the register paying the earth for two little strips of lace, Donna knew she had lost her mind to even consider sneaking a man into her bed as her children slept only several doors away.

The threat of insanity didn't stop her, however, from getting the kids off to bed by 11:00. Donna then spent the next hour getting ready. She had showered, waxed and trimmed, slathering her body with rose scented moisturizer. But now it was after one a.m.—closer to two, actually—and still no Jax. Although a little worried, Donna managed to keep herself from texting him because it would make it feel too much like a booty call.

_Stupid, it is a booty call and I've been stood up._

Wrapped in a terrycloth robe, Donna pushed herself up from the couch. Turning off the lights, she left the living room. Throwing the deadbolt on the front door, Donna turned off the porch light and softly padded down the hall to her bedroom. As she snuggled down underneath the fluffy covers, she snorted out loud.

 _Maybe it'll do some good for Mr. Jax Teller to realize that I'm not the kind of woman who should be kept waiting_.

* * *

The SAMCRO VP was standing in Tara Knowles' bedroom wondering just how the fuck he had gotten himself into this situation. More importantly, however, was how would he manage to get himself out of it.

 _This is the last place I thought I'd ever find myself again_ , he thought grimly as he stared at Tara, who was sitting on the edge of her bed wearing nothing but an oversized man's button-down shirt.

Standing in the bedroom of an ex-lover was not what Jax had planned for that evening's entertainment. If Donna ever found out, Jax was sure they would be over even before they had a real chance to begin.

Earlier that evening, with the after-Church party in full swing, Jax had done his duty as VP by socializing with his brothers, including several visiting patches from Tacoma and Tucson. He was sitting at the bar with Happy throwing back shots of Jack and watching Chibs and Bobby trying to one-up each other with their humorous shit talk as they played a game of pool when he felt his prepay vibrate in the pocket of his kutte. Pulling it out, he squinted in the lowlight of the Clubhouse and made out a familiar number.

"What the fuck?" Jax had muttered to himself. There was no reason why this person should be calling, especially not late at night, unless there was an emergency. He let the call go unanswered.

Without a word to anyone, Jax had quickly made his way outside to call Neeta. After his son's nanny assured him that Abel was fine and down for the night, he thanked her and hung up as he walked to his bike. Truly hesitating, Jax finally called the number back and listened to the frantic person on the other end sob hysterically. Hanging up and shoving the phone back into his pocket, Jax had revved his bike and roared out of the parking lot.

That had been ten minutes ago.

Now as he looked down on the bent figure on the bed, he honestly had no idea why Tara had called him. Sitting down beside her, he reluctantly took her trembling hand in his gloved one as he tried to calm her down. He had already divested her of the gun she had been brandishing when he arrived, placing it on top of the dresser next to the docked iPod currently playing some old song, a crooner warbling about losing his girl.

 _Shit, looks like former-Special Agent Joshua Kohn won't have to worry about losing his girl ever again,_ Jax thought as he looked at the motionless figure lying dead on the bedroom floor, his torso splayed across the threshold leading into the en suite bathroom. The blood oozing from the gaping wound in his stomach was simultaneously soaking into the bedroom's carpet and spreading over the bathroom's tiles.

"What am I going to do?" Tara moaned as she rocked back and forth.

 _Calling the fuckin' cops might have been a good way to start,_ Jax thought silently.

Jax had absolutely no business being in the same room as the murdered corpse of the man he had thrown through a plate glass window. The SAMCRO VP was hard pressed not to shake the doctor as their current predicament hit him like a punch to the face. Of all the scenarios he had envisioned for the night, all of them included a naked Donna, not a hysterical woman holding a gun with a dead stalker in her bedroom. And certainly not being carted away in handcuffs for the murder of a former federal agent.

A couple of months had passed since Jax's last altercation with Kohn had resulted in him being stripped of his badge and credentials. The ATF wanted Kohn sent back to Chicago on the first available flight to face some serious charges regarding the stalking and harassment of Dr. Tara Knowles. Happy to see him gone, Jax had been foolish not to have Juice follow up, assuming that the man was currently sitting in some prison cell in Illinois.

The fact that Kohn was dead and in Tara's bedroom meant he had somehow eluded the agents who were to escort his ass back to Chicago. The wily motherfucker had obviously learned how to maintain a low profile while on the job, staying off the radar as he plotted his return to Charming.

And to Tara.

Fortunately, despite the bruises on her face and the lump on the back of her head, Tara had managed to avoid the ultimate indignity of being raped by her stalker. Unable to count on the Feds to do their job, she had protected herself by disarming and shooting the psycho.

 _Good for her_ , Jax thought as he looked at Kohn in disgust, his dead and unseeing eyes staring up at the ceiling.

But instead of calling an ambulance or the cops, she had called him.

According to what he had been able to get out of Tara, after shooting him, she had stayed in the living room and ignored Kohn's pleas for help—interspersed with ugly epithets aimed at her—until he had finally fallen silent. By the time Jax arrived, Kohn was already dead, apparently having bled out.

Now at a loss of what to do, Jax knew that whatever had to happen had to be done fast. He decided to tackle Tara first.

"Why didn't you call the police?" Jax asked gently.

"I don't know," Tara replied hesitantly as she swiped at the tears running down her face. She avoided looking Jax in the eyes. "I was in shock, I guess. Confused. I barely knew what the fuck I was doing."

Jax nodded at the body. "The wound looks bad, but it would have taken a while for him to bleed out. There wasn't anything you could have done—"

Tara's head snapped in his direction, her eyes wide and wild. "No! I already told you, I was in shock!" She said violently. "Besides, maybe it's better that he's dead." She finished in a near whisper.

Looking down at her, Jax came to the realization that maybe that was what Tara had really wanted. With Kohn dead she could go on with her life, sparing herself the ordeal of going through a messy trial and all that it would entail.

"Maybe you're right," Jax said quietly and watched as she finally made eye contact with him. "Had he lived, he probably would have done short time, a few years at most, and once he got out, he would have picked up right where he had left off, stalking you until one or both of you were dead."

Tara swiped at the snot under her nose. "See, so it did work out for the best."

"Okay, and no one deserved it more than that asshole," Jax agreed. "But you still need to call this in. Hale will—"

"No! No one can know what happened, Jax!" She almost bellowed. "Can't you—" Tara moistened her lips as she frantically waved her hands at the body. "Can't you just make him disappear?"

Jax's eyes widened. _Is she fuckin' serious?_ Looking into her eyes, he could see that she was. Deadly serious.

"Tara, there's no need for that. You have every fuckin' right in the world to defend yourself. He was stalking you and not only was he violating an R.O., but he broke into your home. He was going to hurt you. You're not going to get in trouble for this at all." Jax tried reasoning with her.

"Do you even know all the shit I had to go through just to get that restraining order in the first place? No one wanted to help me. I just want this over and forgotten." Tara was quickly approaching hysterical once again. "Please, Jax, _you_ help me now. You're the only one who's never turned his back on me. Please do this for me, for what we once had." She whispered, placing a hand on his shoulder and letting it trail down his arm.

Jax could almost hear the promise he saw in her eyes. _And for what we can have again._

The warning bells in his gut were blaring in his ears. Jax knew that getting involved in this nightmare by helping Tara cover up Kohn's violent death could blow back on him. He was a convicted felon with a criminal record a mile long, but looking into her desperate eyes, Jax felt something tug at his heart. Over the years, Jax had forgotten how many times he had come to Tara's rescue thanks to her drunk and abusive father. All he knew was that it had been _a lot_ , but as he thought about everything she had done to save his son's life, Jax knew he couldn't turn his back on her, not if there was something he could do to help.

So for ol' time's sake, Jax decided to rescue his last damsel-in-distress.

"Is this what you really want?" He asked just to be sure because once the process was set in motion, there was no going back. At her shaky nod, Jax sighed. Standing up, he walked over to the dresser and eyed the gun. He was about to pick it up, but paused, grabbing a black t-shirt hanging on a chair to wrap it in before placing it in the inside pocket of his kutte. "Then I'm going to need your help."

* * *

She was on a private beach.

She wasn't sure how she got there, but she didn't care. Just like she didn't seem to mind that the gauzy, billowy sheath that clung to her body left nothing to the imagination. What she did know was that the bright sun was warm on her face and the light and airy pink-colored sand was soft and cool beneath her bare feet as she walked towards the white-capped waves crashing onto the shore. The warm breeze blew gently through the palm trees and perfumed the tangy sea air with the rich and heavy scent of tropical orchids.

"Beautiful." She heard herself whisper as her hair twisted into loose curls danced in the wind around her face.

 _Beautiful certainly describes him now_ , she thought, her eyes firmly focused on the chiseled and powerful form of the nude man standing almost knee-deep among the waves. With his hair the color of spun gold whipping in the sea breeze, he turned towards her and smiled, holding a strong and firm hand out for her to grab.

"I've been waiting forever for you, darlin'." He almost whispered as he pulled her towards him.

Wrapping her arms around him, she could feel the frantic beating of his heart pounding in his chest as it thumped in time with hers. He lowered his head to envelope her lips with his own and she groaned as his tongue danced against hers gently, but firmly.

It was an absolutely perfect moment in time. Soon, Jax Teller was laying Donna Winston down on the wet sand and making sweet passionate love to her as the waves crashed around them.

But when Donna opened her mouth to cry out in glorious ecstasy, out came a shrill tinkling of bells. Her mouth instantly snapped shut and she prayed that Jax had not heard the strange sound she had just made. Letting her eyes drift closed as he continued moving inside her at a torturously languid pace, the soothing sounds of the ocean slowly morphed into the ear-splitting sound again. That damn tinkling of bells was ruining what was probably the best sex dream she's ever had in her life!

Without warning, the bells suddenly stopped and Donna kept her eyes firmly shut, hoping to pick up in her dream where she had left off. This time, when the bells started ringing again, she realized with a miserable groan that it was her cell phone trilling for attention on her night stand. That realization finally succeeded in piercing the veil of sleep that enveloped her, completely ruining the wonderfully sexy dream she had been enjoying the hell out of! Groggily reaching for the phone, Donna noted the time with bleary eyes.

_5:00 am!_

"What the hell?!" She muttered as her eyes finally focused on the caller id. Suddenly wide awake, Donna shot up into an upright position. "Are you kidding me?!" She growled at the ringing phone in the palm of her hand.

Tempted to drop the phone into the glass of water next to the alarm clock, Donna convinced herself to answer it instead. She might be a glutton for punishment, but she couldn't wait to hear what bullshit excuses Jax had for leaving her high and dry.

_And horny! Let's not forget horny and without a single battery in the house, too!_

Brushing the hair out of her eyes, Donna cleared her throat and answered the phone as if she were sitting at her small desk at Oswald Construction without a care in the world.

"Hello?" She said airily.

" _Uh, hey Don—"_

"Excuse me, but who is this?"

" _Babe, you know who it is."_

"Oh no. You see, I don't know anyone who would spend so much time and energy trying to wheedle his way into my bed with dirty phone calls and texts only not to show up once invited." She replied sarcastically. "I'm thinking that the person on the other end of this line _must_ have the wrong number."

" _C'mon, babe, please don't be that way. I can explain. Sort of," Jax said hesitantly._

"Good, and you can explain that shit any time that's not now."

" _I can't."_

"And why not?"

" _Because I'm standing on your doorstep right now."_

"Motherf—" Donna bit her tongue and composed herself. "Then I'm sorry you wasted a trip out here because I'm going to back to bed. _Alone_."

" _Don," She could hear the sudden warning in his voice. "You either open the door and let me in or I'm gonna make a big show of revving my engine loud enough to wake the fuckin' dead, and maybe the kids too. It's up to you, darlin'."_

Venting with a little squeal of frustration, Donna tossed the phone at the foot of the bed. Flinging back the covers, she angrily stalked out of her bedroom and towards the front door. Muttering obscenities under her breath, Donna quickly unhooked the chain and unlocked the deadbolt before throwing the door wide open.

"You got some damn nerve showing up here _five hours late_ looking for a booty call and threatening noise pollution if I don't let you in." She said as she placed a hand on her cocked hip.

In spite of it being so early that even the sun was struggling to show its face, the outlaw biker looked awesome, even if he did look like he had been rolling around in the dirt all night. Donna was not prepared, however, for the suddenly hot look of desire that shot across his formerly contrite face as Jax took her in from head to toe.

"Damn," He ran a hand over the hair on his chin. "If I knew I had all this was waiting for me, I would've ditched my business a hell of a lot sooner." He growled.

Only then, did Donna remember that she was still wearing the two pieces of cranberry-colored string that allegedly qualified as underwear _and_ that she was standing in full view of whatever neighbor had decided to get up to take a piss and grab a drink of water.

"Shit! Get your ass in here." She ordered, grabbing him by his kutte and dragging him inside before gingerly closing the door.

"Damn, girl, for such a tiny thing you sure have a mean grip." Jax smirked as he grabbed her hand. "Grip this instead, baby." He placed her hand on the crotch of his jeans.

Donna quickly snatched her hand away, but before she could righteously rip into him for standing her up, Jax picked her up and smothered her mouth with his own. Carrying her to the couch, Jax plopped down with Donna straddling his lap and let his hands roam over her body in earnest. Against her will, Donna's traitorous body forced a breathy moan out of her as Jax focused his attention on her breasts that were about to spill from her top, her nipples rock hard with her need.

 _I can't believe this shit! Are you really so weak and needy that you're just gonna let him rush you into bed?_ Donna tried to reason with herself. Unfortunately her body had tuned out as it responded to his very skilled hands and quickly found herself fervently returning his kisses. _Oh what the hell!_

"Don't think you're getting a pass on this, Jax." She panted, her hips grinding against his as she nipped at his lips with her teeth. The sexy growl that escaped him was the spark that set her womanly core on fire as his erection pressed into her.

"Never, darlin'." With a wicked grin on his face, Jax was breathing hard as he looked up into Donna's bright aqua eyes. "You can even spank my ass if you want." He offered with a wiggle of his blond brows.

"Oh, and don't think I won't," Donna warned, already picturing him sprawled face down on her bed as she smacked that well-toned ass of his. "But first take me to bed, you idiot! I'm not taking care of business out here on the frickin' sofa."

Jax stood up with her in his arms. "You know, babe, you get really bossy when you're pissed." He said huskily as he quickly made his way to her bedroom. "I kinda like that."

* * *

Having vigorous and somewhat athletic sex while your children were sleeping only several yards away was not something easy to accomplish. Somehow, though, Jax and Donna had managed to make it work and were now lying in a sweaty heap on Donna's bed. With only a light blanket covering them, the two lovers were cuddled in each other's arms as dawn's early light shone through the slats of the window blinds.

Jax ran his ringed-fingers through Donna's rich and shiny hair that was splayed across his chest and grinned. He had always known she was a bit of a spitfire, but tonight Donna Winston had proven herself a bit of a handful as pissed off as she was about being stood up. It had taken a Herculean effort on his part to not only change her mind about letting him stay, but to please her by making her come without her screaming the house down.

It hadn't been easy, but damn, the scratches down his back and the bite marks on his shoulders were sure worth the effort. Jax was hard pressed to know how a sensual and passionate woman like Donna could live without a man worshipping her small, but tight and luscious body with his own on the regular. Looking at her now, after thoroughly satisfying each other, Jax could almost see her putting that part of herself inside a box where it would stay until she was ready to have him worship her again. He had always admired her for putting her roles as wife and mother first, but Jax was determined to make the hot and loving woman in her a priority as well.

That is, if she didn't already have second thoughts about exploring their relationship further after he had so stupidly stood her up. Before the subject had the chance to rear its ugly head in an unfavorable manner, Jax decided to face it head on instead of avoiding the conversation altogether.

"Darlin', I'm really sorry about tonight." He whispered softly into her hair before dropping a kiss on her head.

"Uh, don't you mean _this morning_?" Donna prodded teasingly as she allowed herself to play with his pecs, giving one of his nipples a good tweak.

"Ow! Woman, there's no need to get violent." Jax laughed as he rubbed his sore nipple with his free hand.

"I think there is, but then you weren't the one that was stood up." Donna replied pointedly. "Where the hell were you? I was worried, you know."

Jax grabbed her hand and kissed the inside of her wrist. "Of course you were. Shit, I should have known that." He responded, a little pissed with himself. "I'm sorry, babe. I just got knee-deep in some . . . Club shit." Jax finished, focusing his clear blue eyes on Donna's.

It hadn't been easy deciding to keep tonight's events to himself. Jax had agreed to help Tara already knowing he could never tell Donna and his conscience had readily kicked in. The last thing he wanted to do was start things off with Donna by lying through omission. But at this point, in spite of the many laws he had broken that night, Jax realized that he was more afraid of scaring Donna off with the truth than of anything else.

JT's manuscript had been pretty clear on the subject of old ladies and full disclosure. Either you told your old lady nothing or you told her everything. Jax had seen first-hand the damage no disclosure had wrought on Opie's relationship with Donna. The beautiful pixie he held in his arms had egregiously underestimated her own strength by not wanting to know shit about the Club and Opie's role in it. Jax knew that in order to make it work, things had to be different with them.

 _Just not now. And just this once_ , Jax promised himself.

They may have known each other for years, but now they were learning about each other on an intimate level. Jax was only in the beginning stages of figuring Donna out and so far all he knew for sure was that she was more complicated and complex than anyone could ever imagine. He couldn't figure out what would upset her most—the fact that he had spent the night getting rid of a body or that he had done it for a former-lover. _Or both_.

How could he possibly explain to Donna that, instead of spending the night with her—the woman he hoped would one day agree to be his old lady—he had fallen into a conspiracy with Tara by making the body of Joshua Kohn disappear? Jax didn't think there was a woman alive that could understand that shit.

Fortunately for him, getting it done had not been the difficult task he had initially envisioned. As a matter of fact, it unnerved the outlaw to realize just how easy it was to send someone on a permanent vacation. Luckily, Tara's late father, an infamous packrat, kept a large supply of plastic sheeting in the garage. For what reason, Jax had no clue, but it had come in handy in bundling up the bloody body after stripping it of all identification. Using Tara's car, Jax transported Kohn to a deeply wooded forest about an hour's drive from Charming. After digging a deeper than shallow hole, Jax dumped the body, burned it, and finally buried the remains.

It had taken nearly three hours to do the job solo and, after making a brief stop on the way back, Jax had returned to Tara's to park her car and retrieve his bike from her garage.

The young doctor had spent that time cleaning up all evidence of a violent death from her bedroom and bathroom and had been waiting for his return. Tara was grateful and extremely eager to show him just how grateful she was. There had been a time in his life—a fairly recent time as a matter of fact—when Jax would not have hesitated fucking another woman before heading home to the one already waiting for him. This time, though, it was Donna that was waiting for him and what he had told her on Sunday had been true: he had gotten over Tara a long time ago.

Jax was finally on the right track with Donna and he had no interest in complicating his life by taking Tara up on her promise that this time things would be different with them. But after the horror and trauma she had experienced at the hands of Joshua Kohn, Jax didn't want to tackle the fact that there was no "them" with Tara in an extremely emotional and volatile state of mind. Besides, in the clear light of day, Jax was sure that Tara would realize that with Kohn now out of the way, there was nothing holding her down in Charming and she would be free to return to her life in Chicago.

After beating a hasty retreat from Tara's house, Donna was now at the forefront of his mind. Jax had been so busy wrapping shit up with Tara that it had not occurred to him to touch base with Donna, letting her know that although he would be late, he would definitely be there.

Fortunately, with some well-placed kisses and caresses, Jax had managed to talk Donna out of killing him. Because she had been so upset, Jax knew that telling her about Tara's situation was not the best way to start their relationship. Besides, this being the last favor of this nature he ever intended to do for Tara, Jax reasoned that the less Donna knew about the situation, the less she could get into trouble for knowing.

"Club business, huh?" Donna cocked an eyebrow as she examined his face. Although he seemed sincere, she was getting an uneasy vibe from him.

"Yeah. It was kind of unexpected, darlin', but everything's under control. I promise."

"Okay." Donna turned over to rest her folded arms on his broad chest. She wanted to look him straight in the eyes when she made her point. "I just hope it's not about a woman, Jax. You know I'm not interested in being one of many dishes in some pussy buffet."

"You will never feel that way with me, sweetheart." Jax whispered.

Jax knew that it would probably be an uphill climb for them. After all, like Donna had said, they didn't exist in a vacuum and eventually would have to deal with their families and children and SAMCRO. And like Donna, Jax needed to know if Clay was in any way involved in the death of his best friend and her old man, and ultimately, Jax wanted to put the Sons of Anarchy back on the road that his father had originally intended.

But more than anything, Jax wanted to build a strong foundation with Donna, one that could withstand all the shit that would undoubtedly try to destroy them. In order to make that happen, it was going to take more than just telling her how much he cared for her. He would have to show her.

Cupping her face in his hands, Jax kissed Donna's lips tenderly. "Babe, I'm gonna prove to you that I can be a one-woman outlaw."

**The End?**


End file.
